Realizations
by D. Franks
Summary: Castle and Beckett have been tiptoeing around each other for too long. Will he step up to the plate when it looks like he's going to lose her? And how will she react to his life changing news?
1. Chapter 1

**This stems from a spoiler for the episode 2x23. Just the one though, and it's fairly minor.  
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**Disclaimer – I don't own any of these characters**

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**Realizations**

"Castle, about what you saw earlier…" Kate felt more than a little apprehensive as she broached the subject. This wasn't a conversation she wanted to have with him, but she had to clear the air now, before she lost her nerve. Castle's response was to lean back in the chair he was sitting in, waving his hands in what passed for a dismissive gesture.

"Beckett, he's a good guy, and you clearly like him." He paused as though steeling himself, "that's all I need to know."

Kate stared at him, lost for words for a moment. She'd been preparing this little speech in her head ever since she'd realised that Castle had been an unhappy spectator to her kiss with Tom that afternoon. And now he was telling her he didn't care?

He was returning her confused stare with a rueful one of his own. "He obviously makes you happy. You deserve to be happy, Kate." Castle broke eye contact and looked down at the floor, shadows falling across his face. Kate opened her mouth to say something, though she had no idea what. Before she could, he looked up at her again, a sad little smile on his face. "Goodnight, Detective." He stood up, and moved away from her.

"Castle," she called after him, and felt a loosening of the tension she hadn't even realised was there when he turned around. "Until tomorrow?" She hated the question in her voice, but had to know.

He looked at her for a moment, his face unreadable, then said "Maybe. I have that meeting with my agent at noon, remember?"

"Right! Right, your agent, I forgot." Kate tried for casual, but fell well short. There was an awkward silence that seemed to last an eternity before Castle broke the tension.

"Well…" he nodded at her, and left with what Kate took to be undue haste.

Kate had felt her stomach lurch when he'd failed to use his own 'hopeful' farewell, and now she could feel a dull ache, somewhere in her chest. She watched him leave, a frown on her face and a million thoughts running through her head.

This was typical of the man. He'd spent months now breaking down her walls, insinuating himself into her professional life, but showing a resolute refusal to do more than make the occasional joke about her personal life. And now, after all that time that she'd been full of a nervous excitement over him, she finally found a nice, uncomplicated guy who liked her and seemed reliable, and Castle had to go and throw her for a loop by somehow making her feel like she'd been unfaithful.

She wasn't Castle's girlfriend. He'd made it quite clear that he wasn't interested in an actual relationship with any woman. And he'd been more than happy to fall into bed with that tramp, Ellie Munroe. Kate shook her head, sighing. Richard Castle wasn't worth moping over. He wasn't. _I'll see him tomorrow, he'll make a childish joke, reminding me he's really an overgrown 12 year old. Then things will get back to normal. _

She checked her watch, and realised she'd need to get a move on if she was to avoid being late meeting Tom for dinner. Not that she really felt like going out, now, but she could hardly back out. With a put-upon sigh, Kate logged off her computer and retrieved her bag from her desk drawer. _He said he'd meet me downstairs_ she thought, with a newfound sense of trepidation.

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Rick opened the door to a dark apartment. His mother was still keeping up the pretence of having moved out, so he guessed she was at Chet's, and Alexis was studying over at Paige's. He had the place to himself. Usually, he'd take the opportunity to sit down and get some work done, but he couldn't face Nikki Heat and her world just now.

Instead, he gathered a bottle of single malt and a glass from the kitchen, and collapsed onto the couch. _Time to wallow in my misery_, the thought came, mocking his own sense of melodrama. He'd tried. He'd tried all day yesterday and again today, to impress Beckett and win some sort of victory over the man he had suddenly realised was his rival. All he'd succeeded in doing was getting on Beckett's nerves and acting like a child. He'd never felt so foolish in his life as he had when he'd gone back to talk to Beckett and seen her kissing Demming.

At that moment, his sense of purpose and defiance had withered to a small, impotent thing. He wasn't used to losing, but this time, the game seemed all but over, so the only thing left was to gather what remained of his dignity and concede. _What was I thinking, honestly?_ He berated himself. _Kate Beckett does not go for guys like me. She's told me as much time and time again. I just didn't want to listen. _Cringing at his own arrogance, he knocked back a measure of scotch, savouring the sweet burn of the liquid as it warmed his throat.

_This is what happens, Ricky, when you get emotionally involved. Stick to celebutantes and aspiring models in the future. They're much more your level. _OK, now that nagging voice in his head was being downright cruel, but sadly, it was right. Rick turned on the TV in an attempt to drown it out, and found The Last Picture Show, just ten minutes in. _Figures, _he thought, and settled down to watch the teenaged agonising unfold.

He was still sitting there three hours later, when a small commotion at the front door heralded the return of his daughter. The half bottle of scotch that remained stood forgotten on the coffee table, and Rick was sullenly flicking through the TV channels, unable to focus on anything for long enough to actually attempt to watch it. He looked up when Alexis approached him, peering inquisitively at him in the gloom. "Dad? What are you doing sitting here in the dark?"

"Hey, Pumpkin. You have fun with Paige? What was it, history?"

"Yeah, a real barrel of laughs. The Wars of the Roses." She paused, glancing at the bottle on the table, "have you been drinking?"

"Maybe a little." He tried for a charming grin, but already knew it wasn't going to wash.

Alexis frowned at him, and sat down on the arm of the couch, her expression changing to one of concerned affection. "What happened now? Writers block, or did Gina call to read you the riot act about getting the new book finished?"

"No, nothing like that. Just had a long day, and felt like unwinding." Rick knew the sketchiness of his cover wasn't going to fool her, not much could get by his little girl, but he also knew she wouldn't push him.

His suspicions were confirmed when she tilted her head, examining his expression, before clearly deciding to drop the matter for now. "Fine, but just remember you've got to meet Paula for lunch tomorrow." He nodded agreeably and Alexis stroked his hair for a moment, before declaring "I'm going to bed. 'Night, Dad."

"G'night, sweetie," Rick said, pleased that he wasn't going to be forced into talking tonight, though he could tell from Alexis' demeanour as she retreated to the stairs that this was far from over. _As if I could forget about that meeting, even if I wanted to. Am I ready for a change that big?_

He rubbed his hands over his face, and roused himself. _11pm, as good a time as any to turn in. Sitting in the dark isn't healthy. Not when you've got a nice comfortable bed upstairs, and the dark is the same there as it is here. _He set his glass into the sink, put the scotch back into the liquor cabinet and, feet dragging, headed for the stairs himself.

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**There will be more to come, though I'm not quite sure of the direction it's going to take yet. Please review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Thanks so much for all of the kind reviews. I really appreciate it. **

**In answer to a question that came up in them, the spoiler in chapter 1 was that Beckett and Demming kiss, and Castle sees it. That's it. It was in a promo photo for the episode. Like I said, fairly minor.**

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Rick hopped out of the taxi, quickly paying the driver and, dodging through the lunchtime throng of pedestrians, made his way into the restaurant.

It was the same place Paula always arranged her meetings. She claimed it was because the food was good, but Rick reasoned she liked the place because they did the best Manhattans in… well… Manhattan. Paula was already there, buzzing with impatience as she jabbed at her PDA. _Maybe she won't make an issue out of it, _Rick thought as he crossed the floor to her.

His hopes were dashed as she looked up at him, "Where the Hell have you been?" She snapped. "Fifteen minutes late, Rick? Let me tell you something, if you leave a girl sitting in a crowded restaurant for more than ten minutes, people start to feel sorry for her. They think she's been stood up." She fixed him with a glare, "I hate people feeling sorry for me."

He sat down and tried to look contrite. "Sorry, I had a late night. Overslept a little."

Paula eyed him knowingly. "What was her name?"

Rick bridled a little at that, and felt the need to explain himself. "I had a bit to drink, and didn't sleep too well. And before you choose to misunderstand again, I was alone." He glared until the smirk faded from her face, replaced with a look of surprise. It took him a moment to realise why. _I've never felt the need to protest my innocence before, _he needed to distract her, and himself, before she questioned him further. "A few drinks. That's never caused me to oversleep before."

Paula shrugged, "Well, you're not twenty five anymore, Rick. Or thirty five, for that matter. You should stop acting like you are. If you get drunk, your body's going to feel it in the morning."

"Thank you, doctor," Rick replied, stung by the jab at his age. _I'm in my prime! She's talking as though I'm on my last legs. It's not like she's a spring chicken, either. _He thought better of mentioning his thought to Paula. The last thing he needed was to have a glass of wine thrown in his face this early on a Wednesday. Instead, he considered her words. OK, so he'd felt a little groggy when he woke up this morning, lethargic. That didn't mean he was heading into his dotage.

His train of thought was derailed when Paula abruptly changed subject. "I ordered for you. The usual, it should be here in a few minutes." He nodded his gratitude as she continued. "So, I've been talking to the producers, and they've confirmed that they want you to write the screenplay." Her excitement was palpable, she was literally on the edge of her seat, leaning towards him.

Rick was pretty enthusiastic about it himself. This was a big deal, he was being asked to adapt his own book for the movie. Not only would it allow him far more control over the project than he'd initially imagined, but it would also put his foot in the door in L.A. He'd never done any writing for television or movies before. Not that many novelists did, but it was something Rick had been intrigued by for a long while. He'd talked to Cannell about it at length, and he made it sound like a really collaborative, creative process. The right opportunity just hadn't ever arisen. Until now.

But that enthusiasm was tempered with plenty of concerns. "So, what's next? They come out to New York or…."

"They want you in L.A next week." Paula cut him off, clearly eager to impart the good news.

"Next week?" Rick was stunned, "I can't just pick up and leave now. Alexis has school, my mother's situation is a bit up in the air, as usual. And I think you're forgetting a certain book I'm supposed to be writing." He neglected to add a fourth pressing reason, a certain elegant, beautiful NYPD detective, but he was really trying to push her to the back of his mind. _Deal with that later_, he told himself, ruthlessly.

Paula gave him a tolerant look. "Not permanently, you idiot. They want to meet with you, throw some ideas around. Of course, they want a first draft, but they know that'll take a little time."

A momentary silence fell as the waitress arrived with their food, darting a flirtatious look at Rick from beneath her eyelashes. He barely noticed, but smiled at her in what he hoped was a grateful, charming manner. Paula thanked her and shooed her away from the table. As soon as she was gone, he leaned in towards Paula again, "A little time? I have no clue how long it takes to adapt a book into a movie. I don't even know where to start."

"Well, it's lucky you'll be meeting with the experts then, isn't it?"

Rick contemplated his BLT for a moment before tucking in. _L.A. I had no idea things would happen so fast. But a meeting, a couple of days, I can manage that._

Paula was watching him, the smile on her face told him he hadn't heard the half of it yet. "What?" he asked, suddenly wary again.

"Bruce said that they were certainly sympathetic to your situation, with Alexis and school." Rick's eyes narrowed as he absorbed this, now sure he wasn't going like where it was going. "They're going to want you available for consultations, rewrites, casting. All the cool stuff, so they've agreed that they can wait a few weeks for that first draft. Alexis' summer vacation starts in the first week of June, right?" She didn't wait for his nod, before continuing, "So they've suggested you and Alexis head out to California for the summer. A working vacation, if you will. They'll pay for accommodation, a driver, all the perks, for a whole three months. Seriously, Rick, they're giving you the five star, A-list treatment, you cannot screw this up."

He stared at her, lost for words. This was all too much, even for him. _They really want me involved that badly? They already own the book rights, no one would blink twice if they froze me out of the whole deal._

She could see he was struggling to absorb everything, "Look, you don't have to commit to anything now, other than getting your butt over to the Pacific coast and spending the week schmoozing powerbrokers and seducing starlets. You'll be in your element, trust me."

He nodded absently, "Yeah, sure. You've booked a flight already, I take it?" She waved her PDA at him, to convey that that had been just what she'd been arranging whilst waiting for him to show up. "I'll need to talk to Alexis about all of this. My mother too, I guess, and…" He cut himself short, before he said Beckett's name. Unfortunately, Paula caught his slip.

"Oh Rick, you're not still hung up on the detective, are you? You still haven't gotten her into bed? Christ, you're hopeless."

Rick felt a flash of true anger, then, offended that anyone would talk about Kate Beckett in such bald terms. _She's not some toy, waiting around for the next man to pick her up and play with her! _He squashed it back down before it could show on his face, and simply said "She's not a factor any more." Paula cocked her head doubtfully. "She isn't" He insisted, "She has a boyfriend."

"If you say so. Look, talk to whomever you need to talk to, think it over as much as you like. Just be ready to get on that plane. Sunday, 11am." With that, she waved the waitress over to get the cheque. "Hate to love you and leave you, Ricky, but I have plenty to do today."

She kissed him on the cheek, and sauntered out, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He glanced up at the clock behind the bar, it was not even one in the afternoon, and his life was threatening to turn itself upside down. He considered making an appearance at the precinct, to see if Beckett had missed him, then shook his head at the thought. He needed time to put all of this in order. _Can I really just leave New York for three months? _When it came down to it, though, was there really anything keeping him there? Alexis would be with him, his mother had her new boyfriend, and Beckett…. He shied away from that thought again. _I'll start with the easy one. Talk to Alexis._

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Kate glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 4pm. She frowned at it accusingly, now it had brought her the unhappy confirmation that Castle wouldn't be dropping by today. His meeting with Paula had been less than ten minutes walk from the precinct, if he'd been planning on making an appearance, he would have by now.

She'd been cooped up at her desk all day, doing paperwork on their last case, and tying up a few other loose ends. And she was going stir crazy. She must have glanced at her phone a thousand times, her hand reaching for it, ready to hit speed dial 1 and call him. Each time, she'd resisted, berating herself for being so silly. What was she going to say? 'I miss you, come around and distract me from my boredom'? They'd both know that he had no real reason to be there, and she couldn't face him realising just how important he was to her. _He'd never let me live it down, of course,_ she reasoned, _even only as someone who lightens my day, makes the dull monotony of staring at a computer screen easier to cope with._

Dinner with Tom hadn't gone particularly well last night. She'd been distracted and laconic, turning things over and over in her head. Of course, Tom had picked up on her discomfort, as he usually did. He was sensitive, and always responded to her dour moods by backing off and letting her stew in peace. She couldn't help thinking, though, that what she'd needed was someone who would do the opposite. Someone who would make a joke, draw her out of her funk and make her smile. Letting out a low, frustrated noise, she headed for the break room. Castle's coffee, that's what she needed right now. She'd been trying to limit her consumption today, as the last thing she needed was to be hopped up on caffeine on a day when there was nothing to do and nowhere to go.

"Hey, Beckett, " Esposito was sitting in the break room, feet up, reading the newspaper. "Castle still a no-show, huh? You think he got a better offer en route to the precinct?" He glanced up, clearly noting her poisonous glare, but ignoring it completely. "Some pretty young thing, wanting an autograph, maybe get a drink, and before you know it…"

"Is your mouth flapping for a particular reason, Esposito?" She cut him off, not in the mood for him yanking her chain today. "Or are you just looking to book yourself a month of night shifts?"

He smirked at her, totally unrepentant, "Just wondering where he is, that's all. It's not like him to no-show completely, unless something happened." He paused, and peered at her, feigning innocent concern, "Did something happen?"

Kate didn't bother answering, and simply turned her back on him. She needed to concentrate on making her coffee, after all.

She could still feel his eyes on her, and felt the colour rising in her cheeks. Spinning around, she declared "Nothing happened, ok? Nothing at all. And nothing's going to happen. In case you haven't noticed, I'm currently dating a perfectly lovely Robbery Detective. Why would I want anything to do with Richard Castle?"

"Why indeed?" Esposito countered mildly. He jumped lightly to his feet, dropping the paper on the table. "I think I hear Ryan calling me. He's been pondering whether to keep Ray Rice in his fantasy football team for at least the last hour. Maybe he finally made up his mind." He grinned at her, and cleared out of the room before Kate could respond, leaving her sputtering her disinterest in Castle to an open doorway.

_Dammit, even when he's not here, he's getting under my skin. _She shook her head, and looked to the heavens, hoping for some sort of divine intervention that might help her shake Richard Castle free from her thoughts.

Why hadn't he shown up today? She was quite sure that even Castle would never pick up some floozy in the middle of the day. What had his meeting been about? He had said it wasn't a big deal, but he'd been very vague about it, almost clandestine. What if it was bad news, of some sort? _Surely he'd tell me. If it was related to Nikki Heat, I mean, he'd tell me. Wouldn't he?_

Another, more unsettling thought came to her. What if he was avoiding her? He'd been upset last night, despite his best attempts to hide it. She knew him well enough to see through his bland manner, and she'd played poker with him often enough to know when he was bluffing. The thought upset her more than she would have ever assumed it would. She didn't want to hurt him, she knew that for sure. Now if she could only figure out a few more things, untangle the knot of conflicting emotions in her head and her heart. _Just put it away, Katie_, she said to herself, _Wait until you get an opportunity to talk to him again, and hopefully you can clear up a few issues. One way or another._

One thing she was glad of today, she had no plans to meet Tom tonight. She wasn't being fair to him, but the idea of making polite, friendly conversation seemed beyond her just now. Her only plans for the evening involved a hot bubble bath, a glass of wine, and a good book. Kate idly wondered which one she'd pick.

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**So, I think I'm going to follow this format for much of the story. Alternating between Castle and Beckett's POV, and trying to fit a scene each into every chapter. A few other characters may get a look in somewhere down the line. Again, please review.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

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Alexis was there when he got home. Rick had spent maybe three hours walking around the city, unable to stay still. His mind was moving too quickly, and the only way he could think of to keep his sanity was to move along with it. He must have visited half a dozen coffee shops, twice as many news stands, and had even wandered into a bar, before deciding that drinking alcohol in the middle of the day was a level he wasn't going to stoop to.

However he looked at the situation, it always came back to the same place. Talk to Alexis. There was no way he was going to make a decision this big without knowing how she felt about it. Unfortunately, she wouldn't appreciate being dragged out of school, so he really had to just keep killing time until he could speak to her.

And now, here she was, curled up in an armchair, reading a book and seemingly oblivious to his return. As he moved closer to her, he saw the reason why. She was listening to her iPod, singing softly along with the song. Rick didn't know the tune, but it certainly sounded pretty.

He stopped, and stood watching her for a moment, quietly amazed, as he so often was, at how his little girl was growing into an intelligent, capable, beautiful young woman. That knowledge always brought with it a bitter-sweet mixture of pride and loss. Shaking himself out of his reverie, he strode up behind her and tapped the top of her head.

"Hey, kiddo. Keeping yourself out of trouble, I hope."

Alexis plucked the headphones from her ears and slanted a smile at him, "Of course, though I doubt the same could be said of you." Rick perched himself on the edge of the coffee table, taking her hands in his when she mirrored his position. "How did the thing with Paula go? Are you going to be a big Hollywood star?"

"That remains to be seen," Rick responded to her infectious good cheer. "But they do want me to adapt my little old book for them." He preened slightly, "I guess they couldn't find anyone else who could do it justice."

"Hmm, maybe. Or perhaps they just couldn't find anyone else who was interested." She cocked her head, those big blue eyes fixed on his. "I'm really proud of you, dad."

Rick grinned, and squeezed her hands slightly in gratitude. "Unfortunately, with great success comes great responsibility… or something. Anyway, the upshot is, they want me to fly out there on Sunday. Take some meetings, shakes some hands. I should only be gone a few days. I'll need to talk to your grandmother about keeping you company."

She nodded eagerly. "Yeah, that'll be great. We'll have a lot of catching up to do." Rick rolled his eyes at that, fully aware that Martha had spent the previous weekend helping his daughter spend his money at various ridiculously expensive retail establishments.

Alexis clambered over him to reach her cell phone on the table, presumably to take matters into her own hands and make sure Martha had no plans for next week. Rick caught her hand as she began to drift away from him. "There's more." This was tougher to broach. "The producers have said they want me to go back out there for the summer. The whole of it."

She stopped, frowning now in a manner he always found upsetting. "The whole summer? What for? What did you tell them? What about me?" The last was asked in a small, unsure voice that clawed at his heart.

"You would come with me," he answered quickly. "The idea is for us to wait until your summer vacation, and go to L.A together." He studied her face, watching fear turn into confusion. "I didn't agree to it yet. I told Paula I'd have to talk to you first. Alexis, if you don't want to, we won't go."

"No, dad." She was shaking her head vehemently. "This is important to you. You've wanted to do something like this for a long time. We should go."

Rick gazed at her for a long moment, troubled. Eventually he shook his head, "I'm not going to accept that answer yet. I still have to talk to your grandmother, and a couple of other people. I don't intend to make up my mind until after I've been out there and spoken to everyone involved. I don't expect you to decide any sooner. Take all the time you need."

Alexis smiled gratefully, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a big hug. "Ok, I'll think it over."

"That's my girl."

She let go and took a step back, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Hey, if you're out there for a few days, you should have time to see mom. I'll call her and let her know you're coming."

Rick's eyes widened, and his smile dissolved into a grimace. _Meredith. I hadn't considered that._ The thought of spending a few hours, or even a couple of days, in her provocative company should have been filling him with excitement. It wasn't. Instead he felt rather uncomfortable with the idea.

Covering, he fixed a grin onto his face, "Great." Alexis squinted at him with a wry smile, and he wondered how much of his misgivings had shown. "Go call your grandmother," he suggested. As she trotted off for the daily, hour-long gossip session, he turned his mind to the other women in his life. His mother would be fine with it, he reasoned, she was a pragmatist at heart, and would see that this was an opportunity he had to take.

Still, he couldn't help wondering what Beckett would say. _She'll probably be relieved_, he scowled at the empty space in front of his face. _It'll give her time to go all in with Mr Wonderful. And he certainly won't waste any opportunity to get his feet under the table._

A sense of deep melancholy settled over him as he anticipated tearing off that particular band aid as quickly as possible. He'd lay the whole thing out for her the next time he saw her. The trouble was, he really wasn't sure he could do it. Every reaction he'd trained into his mind over the last 15 years was screaming at him to run, leave Beckett and his longing behind. Three thousand miles would be enough distance for the pull she exerted over him to weaken and fail, surely. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't imagine saying goodbye to her, even if it was only temporary.

Rick pottered about the loft for a while, not doing much of anything, until his guilt overtook him, and he forced himself to sit down at his desk and write. He must have managed a whole paragraph that evening. He was proud of himself. Of course, he ended up deleting most of it, after reading it through, but still, it was more than he'd accomplished on any other night in the last couple of weeks.

The next morning, he was actually up before Alexis had stirred, a rarity, but not one that he welcomed. He'd slept well enough for most of the night, but woke up around 5am, alert as if he'd downed a gallon of black coffee. He was still tormented over any number of issues. The screenplay offer and all it entailed, the book was not going well at all, what colour to paint the bathroom if he ever got around to having it redecorated. One worry bled into another, and after an hour of staring at the ceiling, he decided he might as well succumb to the inevitable, and haul himself up. He made breakfast for Alexis and himself, ushered her off to school, and by 9 he was back in his usual spot, staring futilely at his computer screen.

Through it all, he'd studiously avoided thinking about one thing, one person. He reasoned that if he could banish her from his thoughts for a whole day, then perhaps he'd be able to shake off this hold she seemed to have on him.

It was 11:30 when his phone rang. He knew, without having to look, who was calling. Taking a deep breath, he answered.

"Castle, we've got a murder." The words were clipped, direct as ever. _Oh, what the Hell. Quitting cold turkey is never a good idea._ He scribbled down the address, and told her he was on his way, before she rung off. Slapping his laptop closed, he hurried for the door.

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Kate had enjoyed a thoroughly relaxing evening. Her promise of bath and book had come to fruition, and she'd managed to lose herself in the world of Derrick Storm, without preoccupying her thoughts with the character's creator. Ok, so the wine she'd drunk had been a gift from Castle, the Chateauneuf-du-Pape that he swore by. He'd given her several bottles to populate the wine rack of her new apartment, but this had been the first chance she'd had to sample it. One thing she had to admit about the man, he had good taste.

She'd awakened refreshed and surprisingly cheerful. Her grouchy behaviour of the previous day had her feeling a little sheepish, and she knew she should try to make amends to Ryan and Esposito. Taking her frustrations out on them wasn't something to be proud of, but she'd spent the last couple of hours of the day giving them every menial little job she could think of, as punishment for Esposito's crack in the break room. He took it all with remarkably good grace, but poor Ryan had been baffled, and clearly wondered what he'd done that was so terrible.

So far, she'd spent the morning being so pleasant and convivial to them both that within a couple of hours, they were darting hunted looks around the office, and tiptoeing around, their nerves frayed to pieces. Right now, she was sure they were breathing more easily. For the last twenty minutes, she'd been shuffling through open case files in the store room, looking for something to do now all her current paperwork was dealt with.

She finally picked an interesting looking case, a commercial banker who'd been found strangled with a silk cord on the edge of Central Park. Every lead had taken them to a dead end, and here it had sat, unsolved, for months. Feeling triumphant, Kate headed back to her desk. Before she could sit down, Karpowski bustled over to her. "A call came in. Dead body found in Spanish Harlem." She handed Kate a piece of notepad paper with the address hastily scrawled on it. "Ryan and Espo lit out of here the second it came in. Can't blame them, really. It's been quiet as the grave around here for the last couple of days."

Kate felt herself wanting to grin. A case! Finally something to do. It felt more than a little wrong to be excited or relieved that a possible murder report had come in, but this was what she was good at, and it would definitely keep her mind off any other worries she had. "Nice choice of simile there, Karpowski." Kate said, memorising the address and reaching for her phone. She hit speed dial 1 before she even registered what she was doing, and her breath caught in her throat as she waited for him to answer. Waited to see if he would answer.

"Beckett." He sounded subdued. "What's up?"

A warm feeling of comfort spread through her belly as that familiar voice reverberated in her ear. She paused for a moment, gathering herself. _Be professional, _she cautioned, _don't get distracted. _"Castle, we've got a murder."

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**Right, so that Beckett section really was too short. I originally planned to put the whole crime scene investigation in this chapter, but I thought that was a nice place to end it. She'll get more time devoted to her in the next chapter, I promise. I'll probably also put her and Castle in an actual scene together, too. Again, please review.  
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	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

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Kate flashed her badge at the uniformed officer standing guard, and ducked under the tape that already cordoned off the building. It was a grotty, rundown looking little warehouse, tucked away down a backstreet.

_Gang related?_ She considered, eyeing the surrounding area. _Definitely looks like this was somebody's little criminal empire, _she decided, glancing at the heavy duty steel door and the bars over the windows. Inside, the crime scene was already abuzz with activity.

CSU were setting up, cameras flashing as they documented every inch of the musty, cavernous room. She could see Lanie kneeling by the quite obviously dead body, sprawled in the middle of the room.

Ryan stood over her, watching as she examined the red, congealing mass that had once been someone's face. Esposito noticed Kate, and strolled over to her. "What have we got?" She asked, wrinkling her nose slightly at the gory sight.

"No ID yet, but a couple of kids outside say the building belongs to a Horacio Esposito, small time fence. Vic was hit in the head repeatedly with a blunt object. It's a messy one."

"Esposito?" She repeated, "He a relative of yours?" She smiled, quite amused at the coincidence. Esposito clenched his jaw briefly, as Kate noticed Ryan making urgent 'leave it alone' gestures at her behind Esposito's back.

"No." Esposito bit off. "I'll go and see if the boys have found anything." He strode off towards the uniformed officers currently shining their flashlights into the various dark nooks and crannies created by the stacked boxes and crates that took up most of one half of the room.

"What's his problem?" Kate asked Ryan, as he wandered over, his eyes on Esposito's back, and a wry smile on his face.

"We've only been here ten minutes, and you're the sixth person to make that crack." He looked at Kate then, his smile widening. "What, you think all Puerto Ricans are related or something?"

Kate gave him a tolerant look. He wasn't anywhere near as funny as he thought he was. "Lanie got anything yet?"

"Well, she's pretty sure he's dead," Ryan said airily, then at her impatient look, added "Not yet, no. Murder weapon is over there." He pointed to a CSU officer who was hunched over something Kate couldn't see. "Crowbar. Still got blood and tissue all over it. Let's hope our perp was dumb enough to leave prints."

"Anyone spending time in this place was likely criminally inclined enough to remember to wipe his prints. We won't find any on that thing." Kate was already starting to put the building blocks of a theory together, _if that is the building owner, it's safe to assume he seriously pissed someone off. Given that the guy handled stolen goods for a living, it's also a good bet that it was either someone he sold to, or someone he bought off. _"Ok, Ryan, see if…"

Before she could say any more, she heard a horrified voice exclaim, "Woah, that's really gross!" She turned, and Castle was there, just ten feet away, staring at the poor victim with an expression that seemed a combination of disgust and keen interest. He looked over at her, and she suddenly felt like a deer caught in the headlights, staring mutely at his face. "Somebody did not like this guy."

Kate was lost for words, suddenly unsure. She'd gotten so wrapped up in the crime scene that she'd forgotten that he was coming. He was acting as though everything was normal, like he'd not shown her his pain two nights ago, and then avoided her since. _What was I expecting? He bounced back, like he always does._

She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again when her brain refused to provide her with anything useful. She tore her eyes away from him, and they happened to fall on Lanie, still kneeling by the vic. She was staring openly at Kate, with a smug smile that seemed far too knowing. That did the trick.

"Yeah, Castle, that's usually the case with murder victims. I'd have thought your extensive research on the subject might have revealed that little tidbit to you." He was still watching her, his brow just starting to lower in what she took to be confusion. Or anger. Her cheeks were burning, and she tried to cover by sustaining her attack. "I guess all that time and energy spent interviewing Mafia Dons, serial killers and spies didn't teach you that sometimes, people kill people they don't like."

His expression cleared, and he smiled at her, conveying that he was indulging her as he replied, "Thanks for the heads up, Detective. I'll remember to include your valuable insight in the next book."

She almost stuck her tongue out at him, and felt her cheeks flame even hotter at the childish notion. Luckily, Esposito saved her from any more embarrassment as he appeared at her side, grabbing her attention.

"Beckett, check this out. Looks like a ledger of some sort." He cradled a scruffy black book in his gloved hands. It's got inventory lists of the crap he's got stored away back there."

"That doesn't sound too interesting," Kate observed, slowly regaining her composure.

"Oh, but that's not all it has. Look here, in the back. Names." He looked quite proud of himself, as he held the book up for inspection. Kate studied the last page. It was mostly empty, except for a list of a dozen or so words. It didn't mean anything. Yet.

"Ok, we'll start with that, then. If those are names of people he moves things for, then we need to find them." Her glance took in both Ryan and Esposito, "You two stay here and see if any of the locals saw anything, " ignoring their doubtful expressions at the chances of that, she continued, "Let CSU dust this for prints, and then I want every entry dissected and those names nailed down."

She turned around, and found Castle just inches away, having moved in to take a closer look at the book. Almost leaping back, she put a couple of feet between them and glared at him, waiting for the inevitable comment. To her surprise, he didn't seem to notice that they'd just been close enough to share each other's breath. His eyes were still on the book, as Esposito handed it over to be bagged and carted off to the precinct. "Why would a guy write down the names of his sources?" He pondered, that distant look in his eye a clear signal that he was about to start writing a story.

"Save it until we get back to the car, Castle. Then you can 'entertain' me with your theories on the way."

"Roger that." Again, he'd ignored the bait that she'd dangled out there. _No comment about entertaining me? Not even a sly grin?_ She frowned at him suspiciously, and he returned it with a look so bland and innocuous that she considered arresting him there and then. Castle never looked that innocent, even when he hadn't done anything.

"Let's go," she nodded towards the exit, and kept her eyes on him until she was sure he was following. He was behaving oddly, and she was going to get to the bottom of it.

* * *

Kate was having a hard time concentrating on the road as she drove them back to the precinct. Her curiosity had been piqued by Castle's reticent behaviour, and she couldn't stop herself from stealing glances at him, potentially endangering them both. He was gazing mildly out of the window, seemingly lost in a world of his own. She'd been wrong before, he wasn't writing a story. This was different, quieter. He usually punctuated the frenetic pace of his mind at work with a series of outlandish ideas as to how someone might have been killed, who might have done it, and what their motive could have been. The silence was unnerving, but he showed no inclination to break it, so she supposed she had to.

"So, Castle, what did you mean?" He twitched slightly, as if shocked to remember he had company, and turned his head in her direction, an eyebrow raised quizzically. "About the book, the names in the book."

The quizzical expression remained for a moment, before he seemed to recall what she was talking about. "Oh, right. Yeah. Well, if you're a nefarious criminal who makes a living buying and selling stolen goods, why would you want to keep a written record of that? The inventory, I get. All those DVD players, stereo systems and the like, bought 'legitimately' from a guy he knew, I'm sure. A man would need to keep track, but the names?" He shrugged slightly, "I just don't buy it."

Kate considered this for a moment, _He's right. The last thing you'd want to do is leave something lying around that would tell anyone who cared to look who you did business with. _"Ok, say I agree with you. Those names aren't his low life contacts. Then who are they?"

"Well, that's the mystery, isn't it?" He grinned, looking and sounding a lot more like himself. "Well, one of the mysteries anyway." Kate pulled a face, frustrated. He clearly had a head full of theories already, but wanted to play coy. _I preferred it when he was acting weird,_ she concluded, not even coming close to convincing herself that it was true.

She decided to leave it until they had the murder board set up. It always helped her think, organizing the evidence and creating a clear chain of events. Pulling things out of thin air wasn't one of her strengths. Luckily, she had a partner who did it better than anyone she knew.

* * *

Rick was already feeling much better than he had in days. As they left the crime scene, he'd allowed himself to start building up the courage to tell Beckett about the screenplay offer, starting with the trip next week. He still didn't know how she'd take it, which was the main reason he was avoiding the topic. Would she be relieved that she was finally going to get some peace? Happy that the third wheel in her relationship was out of the picture? Maybe she'd play it off as if it was of no significance, wish him luck and keep her personal feelings on the matter to herself. Or perhaps, he hoped, she'd be upset, and ask him to stay. What would he do if she did?

That frustration and indecision had melted away as soon as Beckett had asked him about the case. It was always easy, spinning a yarn about the latest murder victim, trying to tie all of the elements into a structure, to see if they fit. They knew precious little so far about this case, but in a matter of minutes he'd developed several different drafts in his head.

He glanced over at Beckett, _It doesn't hurt to have an audience appreciative of my talents, either_, he thought. She'd never admitted it, and he never expected her to, but he knew that Kate Beckett was a huge fan of his, and had been for a long time. Even if he hadn't picked up on the slips she occasionally made, he would have known simply from checking the inside cover of the copies of his books that Ryan read.

He'd picked one up from the man's desk on a whim, touched that Ryan was reading his work, only to see printed on the inside of the cover, big and bold, 'From the Library of Katherine Beckett'. Since then, each time Ryan had a different one of his novels, he found time to take a peek and, sure enough, each and every one had the same tag. He smiled to himself at the memory of finding that first one, the pleasure that had coursed through him when he imagined Kate Beckett curled up in a blanket, eagerly immersing herself in the worlds he'd created.

"What are you grinning at?" The woman in question was looking over at him, her eyes narrowed slightly, but he could tell she was fighting a smile.

"Nothing." He could see her irritation when he left it at that. _She's so pretty when she's pissed_ he thought. In truth, that was a large part of the reason that he was always needling her. Not that she wasn't lovely all the time, but the fire that lit in her eyes, the spots of colour that stained her cheeks when she was annoyed, they were like a drug. He couldn't get enough of them.

That analogy unfortunately brought him back to the idea of quitting cold turkey. He wasn't as sure now, as he had been just an hour ago, that it was a good idea at all. When she'd first noticed him in the warehouse, he'd caught her reaction. It had pleased him immensely to see he could have that effect on her, leave her grasping for words. Rick couldn't help but wonder whether it was some sort of guilt over Demming. He hoped it was, but had to concede that guilt might not be something that would work in his favour.

The problem was, Demming _was _a nice guy. He was polite, decent, intelligent and, most of all, a cop. That was one advantage Rick could never hope to match. He'd warned her in the past that relationships between people that were too similar wouldn't work. _Hell, my first marriage is proof enough of that, _but it didn't seem to be advice that she paid much attention to. He didn't know too much about Beckett's dating history, but if Sorenson and that fireman were anything to go by, Tom Demming was exactly her type.

And Richard Castle was, decidedly, not.

All of which should be telling him to make the sensible, safe decision, and run away. But sitting next to her now, tracing the lines of her face with his eyes, Rick couldn't think of a place he'd rather be.

Before he could analyze that any further, Beckett asked him the question he'd been expecting, and had spent the cab ride to the crime scene, and a good part of the current journey preparing to answer. "How did your meeting with your agent go, yesterday? Anything interesting?"

* * *

**And we'll leave it there, for now. Partly because I'm tired, and want to go to bed, and partly because I'm not quite sure yet what Castle's going to say.**

**About Esposito's background, I don't remember it even being mentioned on the show, so I just went with Jon Huertas' own and made him of Puerto Rican descent.  
**

**As usual, please review. They do mean a lot to me.  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**

* * *

**

Rick had been expecting the question but still, when it came, he could do nothing but stare blankly at her. For all the world, she'd sounded as if it was of no importance. A casual conversation starter between friends, and when he didn't answer right away, she glanced over, raising her eyebrows.

"Yeah…" He drew the word out, trying to give himself even a few more seconds to compose his response. It was just typical that he, a man who made his living out of being a wordsmith, was now struggling to put together anything more than a single word. He made a snap decision, _I'll just take my time, see how she reacts to the first part. _Rick recognized cowardice when he saw it, and there it was, plain as day. _Rick Castle, scared of being honest with a woman. Well, that's hardly going to set the tabloids aflutter._

"It's good news, actually." He said, gaining confidence with each word, "About the Heat Wave movie. The producers have asked me to write the screenplay."

"Wow! That's fantastic." Kate took advantage of a red light to look over at him, a happy smile on her face. "I remember you saying that was something you'd love to do." She was genuinely pleased for him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. _I thought she looked good when she was pissed, _He thought, in wonder. S_he looks even more beautiful now._

He found himself grinning back at her, caught up in her energy. "I know! I never thought they be so keen to have me involved. I don't know what sort of dirt Paula has on them, but knowing Hollywood bigwigs, it's probably filthy."

"You're one to talk," she shot back, her smile twisting slightly. They set off again, the precinct was just a block away. If he wanted to tell her in private, this might be the last chance he'd get for a while.

"Anyway, they want me to go out there this weekend and meet with them." It came out in a rush, before he could find an excuse to put it off. His eyes locked onto Beckett, edgily watching for her response.

At first, she merely looked a little confused. "This weekend? That's a little short notice, isn't it?"

It wasn't what he'd hoped for. His shoulders sagged a little as he replied, "Yeah, well, I guess their world moves even faster than a cop's does." His eyes started to drift towards his side window.

"How long are you planning to stay? Out there?" They snapped back to Beckett sharply when she said this, and he tried to gauge her current mood. She was still watching the road, but her eyes flickered towards him, more than once, betraying what he had to believe was apprehension. He thought her knuckles looked a little white too, as though she was gripping the steering wheel harder than was necessary. He wanted to smile at this little victory, but dared not, for fear that she'd spot it.

"Oh, just a couple of days. Four, tops." He breezed, watching her carefully.

Now he felt bold, and just decided to get it over with. "This is just the first trip, of course. They want me to go back in a month, spend the summer. You know how it is. Well, maybe you don't, but this time they just want to tell me how great they think I am, praise my wonderful work…" He trailed off as her head swivelled in his direction. She stared at him, mouth open, but he wasn't quick enough to read her expression, before they pulled into the precinct's underground garage. In the few seconds it took for his eyes to adjust to the loss of daylight, Beckett had donned that blank cop expression that she wore so well.

His ears still worked though, so when she said "Right. And I'm sure they'll stroke your ego just enough to suit you. Just remember to stick a pin into your forehead if you come back, or you'll never fit through the airport metal detectors," and slammed the car door, he heard the anger. He'd overplayed his hand, he realized, and now couldn't tell if she was annoyed because of his news, or because of his arrogance. _Crap, _he thought, leaping out of the car and hopping to catch up to Beckett, who was almost at the elevator already. _Now what do I do?_

The elevator ride was awkward. Neither of them spoke, and Rick was regretting, not for the first time, that hoary old defence mechanism that made him want to turn everything into a joke. _At least I wasn't bragging about how many women I've slept with, this time_. Every time he did that, he could see the hint of disappointment in Beckett's eyes, and would mentally kick himself.

That didn't stop him doing it again, though, whenever he felt even slightly exposed.

Unexpectedly, Beckett reached over and punched one of the elevator buttons. They shuddered to a halt, and the doors opened. He looked out to see where they'd stopped. It was Robbery. _Demming, _he thought, his stomach sinking a little.

"We've got a dead fence. He'll have been known to the guys in Robbery." She sounded completely matter of fact about it, but refused to meet his eyes. "I'm going to ask around down here." She did look at him then, her face still completely impassive. "I'll see you upstairs."

She left the elevator without a backwards look, and Rick felt like punching something. _Dammit!_ She was running. He was desperately trying to think of something to say that would stop her, when the doors pinged closed, and he let out a frustrated growl.

All that agonising over how to tell her, and she didn't even let him get the whole thing out before scurrying into well-developed arms of Detective Tom Demming, mentor to deprived youth and rescuer of helpless kittens. If that didn't tell him all he needed to know about where they stood, he didn't know what would.

* * *

Kate's mind was roiling as she stalked through the hallway, heading for the Robbery Division's central bullpen. _He's leaving_. It just kept playing, over and over in her head. _How can he just walk out on our partnership? Our friendship? I thought I meant more to him than that, _but clearly not. The first chance he had to take the next step up his own personal ladder of achievement, and he leapt at it. And he'd been so blasé about it, too! Acted like it was nothing important.

Didn't he know that people relied on him, had come to depend on and trust him? Her mood was darkening by the minute, _No wonder he was acting so strangely, he's probably already dreaming about taking Hollywood society by storm, _she thought, caustically. Then, another, even more unsettling idea struck her, _Oh, not to mention all of the pretty little starlets who'll be salivating over him. He'll need to get himself a brand new bed. There won't be any room left for notches. _That bothered her almost as much as the idea of him being gone at all, for some reason. She refused to dwell on why.

"Kate, hi!" She blinked, startled, and realized she was standing over Tom's desk, looking down at him. He smiled at her, pleasantly surprised. "Couldn't stay away from me, huh?"

For a moment, she couldn't recall what she'd come there for, and was tempted to simply ask him for a hug. He was still smiling at her, though now she could see the beginnings of concern. She remembered herself, and quickly said the first thing she could think of that would relate to the case. "Horacio Esposito." At Tom's growing confusion, she elaborated, "He's a small time fence, works up in Spanish Harlem. We think he might have been murdered."

"Might have been? You don't have a body?"

"We do, but no ID yet. His face was… damaged." Tom winced slightly at that. He might have been a Hell of a robbery detective, but he wasn't used to the sort of violence Kate witnessed on a daily basis. "So, is the name familiar?"

"I'm not sure. It might be." He waved to catch the attention of a passing colleague. "Hey, Havermeyer, you heard of this guy? Horacio Esposito?" The other detective looked thoughtful, then something seemed to click.

"Yeah, ain't that the name of the guy who tipped us off about that gang that was working those push-in robberies a few months back. Remember? The ones where they beat the Hell out of the vics, put an old lady in the hospital."

Kate was stunned. "Wait, this guy squealed on his suppliers?" No wonder he'd turned up dead. She was sure now that the ID would be confirmed. "So, what happened to the guys? The ones he shopped?"

Tom was on his feet now, heading for the file room. "We got them. All of them as far as we knew. They pleaded guilty to B&E, larceny and assault. They're doing jail time. Not as much as we'd like, but they copped a plea, what can you do?"

"So, Esposito didn't have to testify?"

"No. Honestly, I'm not sure whether he would have or not. Bad for business, but I do remember him now. Not such a bad guy, as criminals go. He just didn't like the violence these guys were using." Kate had followed him into the store room, and watched as he rifled though a box of files, before brandishing one triumphantly. "Here we go, this is the case." He handed it to her, and she thanked him. "Always here to be of assistance, detective."

_Unlike some people, clearly. _The thought was bitter and she was immediately irritated with herself that she was letting this get to her.

Luckily, Tom chose that moment to distract her. Taking advantage of the fact that they were out of sight of his team mates, he sidled up to her, and placed his hands on her hips, his head leaning in towards her. She responded, raising her lips to his.

The kiss was sweet, and Kate might have deepened it, had Tom not broken away, grinning happily. "Let me take you out tonight. You look like you need some fun."

She returned his smile, and said simply. "I'd love to." It was nice to know that someone wanted her around. Reluctantly, she stepped away from him, and tried to draw her focus back to the case. "Listen, if you remember anything useful, come up and let us know." She pressed her hand against his chest, briefly, and backed away, still smiling.

As she made her way back towards the elevator, that smile faded, as she contemplated the man waiting upstairs.

* * *

Rick had felt a little lost, when he got back to the bullpen. Without Beckett, Esposito or Ryan there, he felt a little out of place. He got on well with the other cops who worked there, but he'd never really spent that much time with them, and didn't feel comfortable enough to interrupt those who looked busy just to chat.

He decided to waste a bit of time playing around with the espresso machine, watching through the break room window as Karpowski started setting up Beckett's murder board. There wasn't too much to go on yet. All they had was a dead body, a murder weapon, some potentially illegally obtained merchandise, and a list of words that might be names.

He was trying to not to think of Beckett, and the way she'd walked away from him. Trying not to think of the despondency that threatened to overtake him when he imagined her with Demming, but it wasn't doing much good.

Rick had to face the fact that this opportunity to further his professional life was going to destroy any remote chance he might have had to win Kate Beckett's lasting affection. Oh, he knew the attraction was there, had known for a long while, and for much of that time, he'd been satisfied with that. They weren't together, and weren't really likely to be, considering their vastly different expectations of what a relationship would be. It seemed grossly unfair that the realization that he wanted more than idle flirtation and sexual tension coincided with her meeting someone she felt she could strike up a relationship with.

And now, his abandonment of her was going to drive her right into the guy's arms. With a dejected sigh, he finally pushed the button on the espresso machine, and stared at the bitter, black liquid as it steamed out of the nozzle. He wandered back towards the murder board, deciding to try and focus all of his energies on solving this case, as quickly as possible. _There might not be another. No way I could follow Beckett around now, knowing how I feel about her. Not if she's with him._

"Hey, Karpowski," he greeted her, leaning his backside against Beckett's desk. "Nice board work."

She looked at him briefly then went back to writing down the names from the ledger onto the board. "Beckett let you off the leash, Castle? Where is she, anyway?"

"Went to talk to her boyfriend." He hated that he sounded like a thwarted boy, and felt even worse when Karpowski smirked at his response. Suddenly, the coffee in his hand looked the most interesting thing in the room. He swirled the contents of the cup slightly, as he stared into it.

"He's not her boyfriend yet, Castle. It takes more than a few dates for Detective Beckett to make that leap."

"Well, it's only a matter of time." He wouldn't be cheered, determined now to view it as a done deal. _One less reason to worry about leaving New York._

""Whatever you say, Betty."

He looked up, surprised. "Huh?"

"I've always been an Archie Comics fan." Karpowski shrugged.

"And you think I'm Betty?" Rick asked, disbelieving. At her nod he stood up straight. "No way. I'm Veronica. I've always been Veronica."

From behind him, another voice sounded "Huh. You having some identity issues there, bro?" Rick turned around to see Ryan and Esposito looking highly amused. "What do you think, Jav? It sounds to me like Castle's exploring his feminine side."

Esposito was nodding in agreement, "Looks like you've got something you want to get off your chest." He stepped forward, resting a hand on Rick's shoulder, consolingly. "Come on, man, let it out. We're your friends. If you're thinking of making any new lifestyle choices, we'll support you."

"Funny. Really, very funny. But I'm quite comfortable as I am. Karpowski and I were just discussing comic books." He looked over his shoulder, waiting for her confirmation. She shook her head as though she had no idea what he was talking about. "Fine, go ahead. Have your fun. But when I become a major player in Hollywood, don't expect any film premier invites."

All three of them suddenly bubbled over with questions. Feeling smug now, he grandly told them about the offer he'd received, in far more detail than he'd been able to convey to Beckett. They looked genuinely pleased for him, and Ryan was the first to say, "Well, we'll miss you, dude. Just don't forget about the little people when you get to the top."

Esposito added, "You gonna come back, afterwards? As much as I hate to admit it, you're a pretty handy guy to have around." At Rick's dubious look, he gestured around the room and added, "Come on. Who could give up all this? They may have pretty young actresses and bikini babes on tap in California, but do they have dead guys with their faces caved in by a crowbar?"

"I'm willing to bet they do, but I take your point." He smiled sentimentally. "I have enjoyed my time working with you all. I guess we'll just have to see what happens. I mean, it's not like you really need me around, is it?" Seeing that they were mounting further arguments about his value, he tried to change the subject. "Speaking of dead guys, did you have any luck asking around at the crime scene?"

Esposito shook his head. "Nada. No one saw anything. In fact, no one ever noticed that building before. Amazing, right?"

"Incredible." Rick answered, absently. Over Ryan's shoulder, he'd spied Beckett getting off the elevator. Alone, at least. He was assailed again with that keen feeling of despondency. Following his gaze, Esposito saw her too, and quickly excused himself to meet her on the other side of the office, quietly recounting what little he and Ryan had been able to learn from the uncooperative inhabitants of that neighbourhood.

Rick couldn't help but watch her. She was resolutely focused on Esposito, not permitting her eyes to veer towards the rest of them, even slightly. He knew he couldn't leave, even for this first trip, without making peace with her.

* * *

Kate could feel his eyes on her, an almost physical sensation. She didn't dare look in his direction, for fear that something would show in her eyes. She didn't want him, or anyone else, to know how much it stung her that he was moving on.

It had come close to happening before, when he'd been offered the Bond deal, and she'd been upset about it then. She'd refused to talk to him about it, not willing to bend enough to ask him to stay. Could she do any differently, now? He'd said it was going to be for the summer. What did that mean? A few weeks, two months? Longer?

Kate tried to listen to what Esposito was telling her, but her mind kept straying back to Castle. _I have to talk to him, _she knew that. _Can't just ignore it and pretend it will go away. So he'll be gone for a while, that doesn't mean he won't come back._ A break from Castle and his endless teasing would be a relief, wouldn't it? She'd have time to figure things out, maybe make a real go of things with Tom. That was what she wanted, after all. He was a nice guy, handsome, caring, sweet, and a really good kisser. He really was everything a woman could want. Still… Her eyes betrayed her, drawn to the man across the room like a lodestone. He was engaged in conversation with Ryan, but was still looking in her direction. She felt a small shock as his eyes met hers, and again she couldn't look away.

With a start, she realised Esposito had finished, and was waiting for some sort of response. "Right. Fine. Ok… I guess we just wait until Lanie gives us a definite ID. Until then, read up on this case. A robbery with violence that our vic may have informed on." Esposito nodded, seemingly all business, but she just caught him glance in Castle's direction as he took the proffered file and sat down at his desk. _Am I that obvious? _She wondered, then decided that if everyone in the precinct already recognised the tension between them, there was no use trying to hide it.

"Castle," He looked amazed that she'd acknowledged him. "I need to talk to you. In private." Ignoring the startled looks from Ryan and Karpowski, she made a beeline for the observation room. Castle followed her with what looked like real reluctance, which was enough to set her frayed nerves on edge again. She closed the door behind them, and turned to face him.

"I'm sorry about before, Castle." She began, "I was being selfish." Kate watched him open his mouth, but this would go much better if he just let her get it all out, so she rode right over whatever he started to say. "I have come to value your contributions to our cases, and I suppose I have come to depend on you when really I have no right to. You aren't a police officer, and you have no obligations here."

"No, I don't" He replied, almost causing her to wince. "But I am your partner, regardless. And I understand why you would feel betrayed if I decide to go away for a while."

Kate breathed a sigh of relief. He was going to keep it on a professional level. She wasn't sure if she could handle it right now if he appealed to their friendship, and whatever other, deeper emotions there might be. He continued, "But, just so you know, I haven't agreed to anything yet other than meeting with the producers."

He hadn't? It was just like him to leave out that little piece of information, to set her off on a tirade, letting her assume the worst. _I hate him!_ She decided, vehemently, but that didn't stop the thrill that had rushed through her at his words. She tried to damp it down, and forced herself to ask "But you're going to, aren't you?" This really was starting to feel like déjá vu. "I mean, it's not everyday someone offers you a job writing a major motion picture. Even for you."

Castle was grinning openly now, and she felt her lips twitching in response, even whilst she anxiously waited for his reply. "It is an ambition of mine, as you know. But it's not quite a simple as that. I have the current Nikki Heat book to finish, plus a deal for two more. Alexis hasn't decided whether she wants to spend the summer three thousand miles away from home," Kate did smile at that. "Not to mention that I doubt my mother could survive for three whole months without me to bail her out of trouble." He paused for a moment, and there was an intent about his eyes that wasn't familiar at all when he said, voice suddenly soft and intimate "And then there's you."

Kate's mouth was suddenly dry, and butterflies were frolicking like crazy in her stomach. "Me?" She said, and was startled at how unfamiliar her own voice sounded. So quiet, so unsure.

Castle held her gaze for what felt like minutes, but was probably only a few seconds, that intense look still lighting his eyes. Then, those eyes flickered to her lips, and she waited, hoped for… something. Something she shouldn't be wanting at all, let alone with a desperation that alarmed her.

Then his face changed, the light in his eyes became mischievous, and his grin threatened to split his face clean in two. "Yeah, you. How would you ever catch anyone without me here to help you out?" He laughed, and whacked her on the upper arm. "So, what do you say? Should we go and solve this case?" He barely waited for her dazed nod before opening the door and disappearing.

Kate stood there in the semi darkness of the room, waiting for her pounding heart to slow. _What was that?_ She thought, in amazement. Whatever it was, she had the feeling that rather than clearing the air, things with Richard Castle had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.

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**OK, so I'm sure some of you didn't enjoy reading part of this chapter. Well, I didn't enjoy writing it, but I can assure you it's necessary for the overall story.**

**As always, please review.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**This one's been a bit of a struggle, as I realised I'd moved them a bit further than I intended to this soon. Oh well, I think I'm happy enough with it, now.  
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The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. Lanie called in the early afternoon to confirm that the vic's prints matched those on file for Horacio Esposito, so now they had to start putting the pieces together.

Esposito and Ryan were going over the case file Demming had produced with a fine tooth comb, looking for anything that might give them something to go on.

Rick was, technically, helping them. He'd really pushed his luck with Beckett in the observation room earlier, had never meant to test her like that. Nevertheless, the reaction he'd gotten had thrilled him. In that moment, he'd known that all he had to do was take a step forward, lean in, and he was sure she would have tumbled into his arms. In that moment.

But he'd really caught her off guard, he could see that. She'd been so caught up in her martyred declaration that he should go that she really hadn't been prepared for him turning the tables on her like that. Kate Beckett was a hard woman to read, when she wanted to be, but Rick felt fairly confident that he could predict how she'd react to any number of given situations. His read of that one was that, if he'd kissed her, if she'd responded, then passion would quickly have been supplanted by panic, and guilt. She might run again, no, he was sure she'd run again, put distance between them both literally and figuratively. That was the last thing he wanted.

That nervous, expectant look in her eyes was enough for now. It had convinced him that he might still have a fighting chance with her. He was on a flush draw, and had to play this very carefully if he wanted that last card to give him the winning hand.

So, poker face fully deployed, he backed off, ensuring that any further conversations they had that day remained light and easy. Still, she was uncomfortable. There was an awkwardness to her that he actually enjoyed, in a selfish sort of way, because he knew he was the cause of it. She tried to stay a fair distance from him, mostly, studying her murder board, even though there was almost nothing to go on, but he had caught her looking in his direction more than once, a wondering look on her face.

When Demming appeared to take her out for dinner, Rick still felt an ache in his chest. He watched as Demming asked her if she was ready to go, and Rick could see the conflict warring in her, an ambivalence he'd not seen before when she was talking to the handsome Robbery detective. He took that as a win for him, even though it soon became clear that she still planned to go.

As she was gathering up her coat and bag, her eyes found Rick's, and he was delighted when she froze, the colour rising in her cheeks. He returned her gaze, and tried to make it clear, for the first time, that she was going to have a choice to make. That he wanted her. He was sitting at Ryan's desk, rereading the statement their vic had given about the robberies, and Beckett had to walk past him to leave. Those green eyes stayed locked onto his face as she left her desk, and walked towards the elevator, her mouth slightly open, seemingly on the verge of saying something. He felt a loosening of the tension that had ratcheted up when Demming showed up.

Esposito noticed, too. "Dude, just what did you two get up to in the observation room before?"

"What do you mean?" Rick thought playing dumb would be the best course to take.

"I mean, why does Beckett look so flustered? Every time she looked at you this afternoon, she got this look…"

"What look?" Rick asked, eagerly, forgetting himself for a moment.

Esposito levelled him with a glare. "A look that tells me that if you screw up, I may have to do something about it."

"Understood." Rick replied after a moment, accepting the warning as genuine whilst simultaneously feeling pleased that Esposito felt it was necessary. "But I'm not sure how I'll get the opportunity to screw anything up if she's swanning off on dates with Demming."

Esposito looked at him for a moment, apparently mulling something over. Eventually, he just said, "Give her time."

That was where they'd left it. Rick left the precinct not long after, in good spirits. He headed straight home, wondering at Esposito's words all the way. _He's known her for longer than I have, _he reasoned, _he's probably seen a whole bunch of guys trying to get somewhere with her, and seen them all ultimately fail. Can I do any better?_

He attempted to sit down and write again. This time, he had more success. Three hours of work produced several whole paragraphs that he actually considered serviceable. Hell, if he could keep going at this rate, he might actually get the book done by the time Alexis was going off to college. He sighed heavily. _Clearly, there's going to be no miracle cure for this._

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_

Kate's evening had been stressful, and as she luxuriated in the hot bath, she wanted nothing more than to stay there forever, hidden away from the world of murderers and criminals, from the confusion of sense and desire that had bedeviled her for most of the day.

Ever since that moment between her and Castle, she'd felt completely off balance. The sudden onset of need that had hit her left her not knowing which way was up. Castle seemed to have sensed it too, for which she was grateful. He'd been nothing but light and fun for the remainder of the afternoon, clearly giving her space and time to try and think things through.

She smiled slightly at that, at how easily he seemed to read her mood, and pick the right reaction to it.

But then, when Tom had shown up, excited about the date that had completely slipped her mind, she'd found her eyes drawn to Castle. The look on his face had almost sat her right back down in her seat. Not irritation, anger or even jealousy, but open dismay then, for the first time, unshielded, open desire. It made her heart skip a beat and she'd only just managed to hold it together and leave the office without embarrassing herself.

Kate wasn't sure what she felt for Richard Castle. She'd been happy when it had just seemed to be a strong attraction, which even she wasn't stubborn enough to deny, and friendship. But the thought of him leaving had upset her far more than she'd expected. Even now, after he'd admitted that he hadn't made up his mind about it, the thought of it was enough to twist her insides.

But that connection between them in the observation room, she still didn't know what to make of it. For a second, she'd felt like a lovesick schoolgirl. _Stop this, _she thought. _You've just been on a date with a perfectly nice, handsome guy, why would you want to be thinking about someone else?_

But, try as she might, she just couldn't shift that image of Castle, of what it might be like to…

Squeezing her eyes shut in frustration and denial of the heat that was building in her abdomen, she sank down further into the bath, in the vain hope that the water would wash the man away. _I need to talk to someone about this, _she thought, in abject misery.

The next morning, bright and early, Kate bypassed the elevator that would take her up to the Homicide Division office, and instead headed down the corridor to the morgue. She knew Lanie would be there already. The woman was a morning person, as unholy as that was, and was usually at work well before 8am.

Sure enough, there she was, sifting through a refrigerator that probably held things Kate didn't care to contemplate. "Hi, Lanie," Kate called, striving to put as much good cheer into her voice as she could manage.

Lanie looked up, surprised. "Kate. What's wrong?"

"What makes you think anything is wrong?" Kate asked, affronted. "I can't just come down here for a chat?"

"Not at 7:45 in the morning, no." Lanie fixed her with an amused look. "So, what's wrong?"

Kate heaved a huge, put-upon sigh, and hopped up to sit on one of the exam tables. Her friend watched her for a moment then, with her usual unerring accuracy, she asked, "It's about Castle, isn't it?" Kate nodded, still unsure of quite what she wanted to say, so Lanie continued. "I heard about his big news. Esposito told me when he was down here yesterday."

"Oh. That." Kate responded, listless and more than a little petulant.

"Let me guess, as soon as he told you he might be going away, you suddenly realised you really don't want him to go?"

Kate decided to latch onto this. Anything that postponed the discussion she really needed to have seemed pretty good right now. "Right. I mean, three months, Lanie. What could anyone find to do in California for three months?"

"Well, I can understand that you might have difficulties with that, but the rest of us…"

"Don't be mean," Kate retorted, frowning at her friend. "What if he does go? What if he likes it so much he doesn't come back?" The thought was dismaying, but she really could see Castle enjoying the life in Los Angeles.

Lanie sighed and asked, "Have you talked to him about it?"

"I have," Kate started. Then, offended by Lanie's frankly disbelieving look, she repeated, "I have!"

"OK. So, what did you say?"

"I told him he shouldn't feel obliged to stay."

Lanie rolled her eyes. "Oh, for God's sake, Katie. What is wrong with you?" She was about to launch into a tirade, Kate could tell, so she quickly distracted her.

"But then he said he did have reasons to stay… and that I was one of them."

Lanie gaped at her. "Wow, Writer Boy finally plucked up the courage to be honest with you?"

Kate gave her a black look and continued, "Anyway, he told me that, and then there was this moment… a few seconds, and I was sure he was going to…"

Lanie leaned forward, eyes wide. "What?"

"Kiss me." Kate could barely force the words out. She really didn't want to talk about this after all.

Lanie watched her carefully. "What would you have done if he had?"

Kate looked down at her hands, wringing her fingers together. "I don't know. It was just so sudden, and then I couldn't think properly."

"So then what happened?" Lanie really was on the edge of her seat now.

Kate sighed again, it was becoming a habit. "He just… acted like Castle." At Lanie's questioning look, she clarified, "He completely changed tack, told me I'd never solve any murders without his expertise, and then disappeared out the door."

Her friend was completely deflated. "Oh. Well, did you go after him?"

"What? No. Why would I do that?" Her own hands were suddenly the most interesting things in the room again. She frowned at her fingernails, not wanting to look Lanie in the eye, knowing she'd see the truth.

It didn't matter anyway, because Lanie was on a crusade to get the truth this morning. "Oh, come on! You want him, just admit it. Everyone else can see it. Hell, even Castle sees it, so pretending otherwise doesn't do anything other than make yourself look dumb." Lanie was shaking her head, exasperated with Kate's continued obstinance.

Kate sat for a long time, chewing her lip and frowning into the middle distance, as she truly considered Lanie's words. Lanie waited patiently. "OK, you're right. I give up. I do want him. But I shouldn't, Lanie. He's just not what I've ever wanted in a guy."

"What? Handsome, smart, funny, thinks the world of you. And a Hell of a father, to boot." Lanie ticked off Castle's good points, with growing authority, as she went along, and Kate realized she really couldn't disagree with any of them.

"Yeah, but, he's not going to be looking for anything serious. You've heard the comments he makes about relationships and marriage. He hates the very idea of it." She was starting to feel truly wretched, now. "Lanie, I can't be what he wants me to be. I can't be a fling, or a casual, 'friend with benefits'. I just can't." Just the thought of that made her feel ill.

Lanie smiled at her, sympathetically, but she wasn't giving up. "Do you know that's what he wants? Have you asked him? Don't forget, the man's been married twice, there must be a romantic bone in there somewhere."

"Married twice, and divorced twice." Kate shook her head, "That's not exactly an endorsement for his ability to commit."

Kate watched as Lanie stood up, moving back towards the refrigerator, and took this to mean that the conversation was over. Her doubts had won out. She wished she felt happier about it. But, her friend couldn't resist one last point. "Well, if you never take a risk, you'll never know."

Kate considered this, trying to imagine what it would be like, to just throw caution to the wind and tell him how she felt. The idea was exhilarating, and terrifying. Kate Beckett just wasn't that sort of girl. She hadn't been for a long time. She left Lanie to her dead bodies and fluid samples, and trudged up to her office.

When she walked into the bullpen, she saw Ryan and Esposito were already there, talking animatedly. Kate stepped quicker, hurrying over to them, interest building as she wondered what breakthrough they might have made on the case. That excitement faded into disappointment when she got close enough to hear them, and realized they were talking about some college football game scheduled for that weekend.

Ryan noticed her first, and said good morning, adding, "Demming stopped by about twenty minutes ago. He hung around for a bit, drank our coffee, but vamoosed when he realized you weren't going to be here before eight." Kate glanced at her watch in surprise. She'd been talking to Lanie for longer than she'd realized. She shooed Ryan off her desk before sitting down, and looked up at him.

"Did he have any new info on the case?" Ryan looked down at her oddly, but Esposito answered for him.

"No, nothing new. He just wanted to see you, I guess. Like he does every morning." There was a hint of reprobation in his tone. She looked at him curiously, and then glanced at Ryan to see that he too was studying Esposito, that same bemused expression that had just been directed at her.

She was about to question them further, when Ryan's phone rang. "Oh, that'll be Jenny, wishing me a good day." He gave an embarrassed little laugh, and briskly stepped away. Esposito shook his head, seemingly dismayed at his partner's behaviour.

"You'll end up acting like that over a girl someday, too, you know." She pointed out, enjoying the outraged glare he fixed on her. "Seriously, all men do."

His glare morphed into a discerning smile as he sat down in Castle's chair. "You think so?" She nodded. "All men huh? What, we all eventually settle down and become good boys?"

"Yeah, mostly," She answered, not sure where he was going with this. He looked at her for a long time, seemingly weighing something up in his head, until she started to feel a bit uncomfortable. "Would you mind not doing that, Esposito? I do have work to do, and I'm sure you're very busy, trying to come up with new leads."

He watched her for another moment, and then his demeanour changed completely. "You're right, I do have a busy day ahead of me. I'll go corral Ryan so we can get started." He headed off to find his errant, lovelorn partner, and Kate watched him go, baffled.

_What was that about? _She soon forgot about it, though, as she began to immerse herself in the case again. This vic hadn't had much in the way of personal contacts, that they could find. Not in the States, anyway. He'd been born in Puerto Rico, and moved to the mainland fifteen years ago, alone. If there was any family there, they hadn't found them yet. The info that Robbery held on him indicated that he was divorced, for more than six years, but they'd not managed to trace the ex-wife yet.

Not only that, but the only possible suspects they had were locked up, or had alibied out. The families of those men the vic had identified had all been covered yesterday. Not that there was much to go on there, either. Two of the four guys involved had come out of the foster care system, and had no family, and the other two were immigrants themselves, from Mexico. Their only family lived in Monterrey.

_We're nowhere, _she decided, the urge to bang her head against the desk building.

"Hey, you can't be this wound up already, it's not even nine o'clock." The voice roused her from her deliberations, and she looked up, completely surprised. Castle. She hadn't expected him to be here so soon. He usually didn't show up until the late morning, strolling in as though he was preparing to do a real day's work.

"Hi," She said, inwardly cursing at how fragile her voice sounded. She swallowed, and tried again. She could already feel a flush of heat traveling up her neck. "I didn't think you managed to climb out of bed before ten, Castle."

He smiled and sat down, fiddling with the takeaway coffee cup he was carrying. "Very funny, detective." He beamed, making eye contact for a moment, before he peered over at the murder board. "Anything new to go on?"

"Not yet," Kate replied, suddenly feeling irked, for some reason. She listened to Castle softly go over the facts of the case to himself, and watched him as he stood and wandered over to the board. _What is it?_ She puzzled. What was it that was bothering her? It wasn't Castle's presence, she knew that. Him being there gave her a completely different kind of feeling to the misgivings she was having now. She contemplated him as he took a sip of coffee.

Then it clicked. _Only one coffee cup._ He hadn't brought one for her. He always brought her coffee, it was an unspoken… thing, between them. He brought coffee, or made coffee, and she drank it. Even when he'd come in to find her and Tom already holding cappuccinos, he'd still brought her coffee. Why had he not done it this morning?

Kate felt truly hurt, and was surprised at the depth of it. She stared at Castle, crestfallen, as he blithely sipped his drink, idly perusing the crime scene photos she'd stuck up there. She gathered herself, willing a neutral expression onto her face, before asking, "Enjoying your coffee there, Castle?"

He looked round, surprised, then said mildly, "Oh right, I figured you'd already have one. Sorry, I'll go make one for you if you like." He started towards the break room.

"No, that's ok," she said, more sharply than she intended, "I can do it myself." _He doesn't think it's a big deal,_ she saw, and then felt even more dejected when he quietly acquiesced to her, and sat down on the edge of an empty desk, watching her blandly. She shoved her chair back with more force than was necessary, and stalked past him, giving him a filthy look as she went. He returned it with one of benign puzzlement, which frayed her composure even further.

She just about managed to refrain from slamming the break room door, and quickly checked around to make sure she was the only person in there. She stood in front of the espresso machine, and took a deep, calming breath. _Don't be so ridiculous, Katie. It's just a cup of coffee, it doesn't mean anything. _But it did. It meant a lot, and she'd only just realized it.

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Perched on the desk, Rick grinned to himself, covering it quickly with the brim of his cup. _That went quite well,_ he decided, his eyes fixed on the door that Beckett had just disappeared through. He'd consciously bought coffee just for himself that morning, because he truly had thought that Demming would already have muscled in on what he considered his own territory; Beckett's morning beverage.

He'd made that decision in a fit of pique when he'd seen a cute, happy young couple in the coffee shop. They had made him feel envious, which was something very new for him, especially when it came to relationships. He didn't look at happy couples and wish he could have something similar, except that now, apparently, he did. The thought was a disquieting one, but now he reflected, his moment of selfish indulgence had worked out for the best.

Before he could follow that train of thought any further, the break room door opened again, and he had to quickly turn his attention back to the murder board, to avoid being caught. Beckett had a carefully composed expression on her face, obviously trying to show how unaffected she was. It might have worked too, if she wasn't still flushed, and her hands hadn't been kneading the mug anxiously. He decided to diffuse the situation before it got out of hand.

"You know, maybe we're looking at this wrong," He began, gesturing at the board. He smiled inwardly at the relief on her face when she understood that he wasn't going to make any more of an issue out of the coffee. "We've been looking for a criminal."

"Yeah, Castle. That's usually what people who commit murders become." Her impatience with his theory didn't bother him, he was used to it, and he always enjoyed the flabbergasted look on her face when he turned out to be right.

"I mean, we're looking at thieves that this guy dealt with. What if it wasn't a thief, what if it was a victim?" She looked intrigued now. _Ha! That didn't take long, _he was elated.

"You mean, what if someone who'd had something stolen traced it to our vic? Went to get it back?" She was really warming to this idea, now.

"Yeah. This guy dealt in small items, right? Apart from the knock off electronics, the only other stuff we found at the warehouse was jewelry, ornaments. The kind of stuff you can just grab and stick into a bag. What if something had great sentimental value? How far would you go to get your father's watch back, if someone stole it?" He was feeling more confident by the second, sure that this line of thinking was going to yield results.

Beckett looked fazed for a second at the mention of losing the watch, but then broke into a smile. "OK, that makes sense. So we need to go through the evidence CSU collected, cross reference it with reported muggings and burglaries in the area." She was already waving Esposito and Ryan over to direct them. "Good thinking, Castle."

He grinned at her. "We make a good team, you know."

Beckett smiled back warmly, looking at him directly, and holding his gaze in a way he found truly intoxicating. "We really do."

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**Yeah, so that idea of one POV each per chapter went out of the window. I decided just to change as and when I thought necessary.**

**As always, please review. Your comments mean a lot to me.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**So, after the difficulties I had with chapter 6, this one flowed as easily as anything.**

**In case anyone didn't get it already, I'm completely winging it with the case. I know almost nothing about police procedures, and have no idea yet whether this case will become a bigger part of the story, or just stay as a back plot.**

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Rick was starting to get a little irritated. He was trying to pack a suitcase for the trip to L.A tomorrow, but his progress was being severely hampered by the two women who, for better or worse, he called family.

"Oh no, Richard." His mother announced, "That shirt makes you look positively middle aged. Short-sleeved button downs do not work for you."

He looked over at her, sat on his bed eyeing the perfectly acceptable dark blue shirt with disdain. "I like this shirt. And I never look middle aged, do I Alexis?"

His daughter, who was busy folding the clothes he'd picked out, looked up at him, with an expression that clearly told him she wasn't going to get involved, and said, "Dad, are you sure you need this much? You're only going for four days."

He directed a crooked smile at her, allowing her to dodge the question. "Of course I do, kiddo. Think of all the parties I might be invited to, all the people I might meet."

"And all of the pretty, impressionable young women you might meet." Martha cut in with a dramatic flourish. "Just don't come back married, that's all I ask."

Alexis wrinkled her nose at that. "Ew. Dad, I really don't want a step mom who's only a few years older than me."

Rick saw the amused look on both of their faces, but still felt a little wounded. _I'm not that bad. I'd never do something that impulsive._ He tried to make light of it. "I doubt I'm going to have time to propose to anyone. You have nothing to worry about."

Before Alexis could voice the thought that her arch smile indicated, she heard her cell phone ringing in her bedroom, and hurried out to answer it. Rick discarded the shirt that had been deemed unacceptable by Martha and reached for another. "Does this one meet your exacting standards, mother?"

She nodded, a tolerant smile on her face. "Really, Richard, you should trust me. I know fashion far better than you can ever hope to."

"Right, sure. Well next time I go shopping, I'll be sure to take you with me." He glanced at the open door, to make sure Alexis wasn't in earshot, leaning towards Martha, and speaking in a low voice. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that in front of her." At Martha's confused look, he clarified, "About pretty women. I'm under no illusions about my romantic history, but I don't want Alexis thinking less of me because of it."

Martha looked shocked now, "She doesn't think less of you! She never could." He busied himself with brushing imaginary lint of the shirt he was holding. Recently, he'd noticed Alexis had taken a dim view of rumours that had appeared about him in the tabloids. Not unhappy or angry, just… disappointed in some way. He'd reassured her that they were just rumours, that the two women he was being linked with were barely even known to him, but still, he could read her like a book.

It was something he'd worried about. He'd always been careful about exposing Alexis to that sort of thing. Rick had been very discreet in the few liaisons he'd had when she was younger. Gina had been the first girlfriend he'd ever introduced to her, and he hadn't done that until he'd started considering asking her to marry him. For nearly all Alexis' life, it had just been the two of them, a happy little family, and no need for anyone else. Of course, Meredith had been an occasional visitor, but not often enough to disrupt the fabric of their lives. He'd feared that Alexis might have reacted badly to the prospect of sharing him with anyone else, but even at twelve, she'd been mature enough to realize that a new woman in Rick's life wasn't a threat to her.

Since his second divorce, Alexis had kept her own counsel about the dates Rick went on, and the brief relationships he'd had. She was certainly smart enough to have no illusions about what he got up to, but he still went out of his way to be discreet. He'd been apprehensive that, as she got older, Alexis would start to think his behaviour with women was unpleasant or, much worse, the way relationships were supposed to work.

This recent attitude change was the first hint he'd had that she might be forming opinions to the former.

Martha shook him out of his reverie, "Richard, we were joking. Both of us. But if you're really worried, then I'll stop." Her expression turned stern as she added, "But if you really don't want people saying that, or thinking it… Well, there's only one way around it."

_Have a proper relationship._ He added, in his head. Looking up at Martha again, he decided to take a chance. "I'm working on it." He said, quietly, and saw her eyes widen.

"Working on it? You mean…"

"I mean, I've developed a… fondness… for a woman. And I'd like to pursue it." He avoided looking at Martha, suddenly feeling like he was fifteen again, and asking her advice on how to ask a girl to the prom.

"We are talking about Detective Beckett, aren't we?" She asked, knowingly, and he nodded. "Well, it's hardly been a secret, Richard. You spend almost every daylight hour with the woman, you've written a book about her. Why so hesitant?"

Rick walked over to the window, and peered out, trying to organize his thoughts. "Because she's my friend, the closest thing I have to a partner. I don't want to screw things up."

"Oh, now this is serious. Richard, are you in love with her?" Martha sounded stunned, and he could understand why. He'd studiously avoided any sort of deep connection with a woman for most of his adult life, ill advised marriages aside.

His answer was quiet, and a bit more wobbly than he'd have liked. "No. I'm not. Not yet, but I think I could be, one day." He turned around to see what Martha thought, and saw that she was truly amazed, smiling at him with soft eyes.

"Oh, my son," She began, moving towards him. "You shouldn't be scared of that. She seems to be a wonderful woman, and she obviously cares a great deal about you, too. Has anything happened?"

"No," He began, suddenly vexed again. "She's seeing someone. A cop. He's a good guy." He hated the mockery in his voice, but whatever way he cut it, Demming was a good man.

Martha fixed him with sympathetic eyes, "Well, if she doesn't have those sort of feelings for you, then it's really not your choice, is it? You can't force her to break up with this other man for you."

"But that's just it. She does have those feelings for me. I'm sure she does. We had a moment a couple of days ago. She was upset that I might be leaving, and got all hot and bothered about it." He grew more animated as he recalled the look on Beckett's face, and the wrench it had been for him to walk away when she was so receptive to him. "But she calmed down, and told me I should go, that I had no reasons to stay…"

"And you told her that she was one of your reasons." Martha interrupted, with a sardonic grin. By way of explaining how she'd guessed what he was going to say, she told him "You tell a good story, Richard, but I've heard them all before. So, did you pluck up the courage to kiss her?" He shook his head, "Touch her?" Again, he shook his head. "Told her you wanted to be more?" At his third denial, she let out an exasperated cry. "Well, you won't get anywhere pussyfooting around like that."

"She has a boyfriend!" He protested, "I can't just try to kiss her."

"Why not? It's up to her whether she lets you or not." She rolled her eyes at his affronted face. "Richard, chivalry is all very good. But if you don't at least let her know she's got a choice to make, then you might as well fly to Los Angeles and never come back." With that, she marched over to his open case, neatly folding the shirt that he'd been crumpling in his hands for the past five minutes, and laid it inside.

Rick was letting her words sink in, testing for weaknesses in the logic, when Alexis reappeared, a studiously glum look on her face. "What's wrong, pumpkin?" He asked, glad of the distraction.

"That was mom. She said she won't be in L.A next week. She's shooting a guest appearance for some show, on location in San Diego, so she won't be able to meet up with you."

"Oh, well, that's ok I guess." He said, trying to hide his relief. He did like spending time with Meredith every now and then, but he didn't think it was a good idea to see her whilst he was working through this Beckett thing. Besides, he had the distinct feeling that Kate Beckett wouldn't be so keen to take a chance on him if he had recently taken advantage of his ex-wife's 'benefits'. "I'll be able to catch up with her another time, I'm sure."

"Yes," Martha said, breezily, "A real shame, I'm sure. Oh well, we don't have all day to get this done." She frowned down at the half filled suitcase. "Really, Richard, why can't you be more of a typical man about this, and just take two pairs of jeans and a couple of shirts. Alexis is right, one would think you were leaving for a month."

Rick shared a wry look between the two of them, "Well, however much I'm taking, we need to get this done. I want to drop by the precinct, see how they're getting on with the case." He wanted to see if any more progress had been made on the lead he'd come up with. And maybe, if he got the opportunity, he might try to put his mother's advice into practice.

* * *

Kate Beckett was feeling very satisfied with herself at the moment. The new direction they had taken the case in was starting to yield results. Ryan and Esposito had been cross referencing robbery cases with the items recovered from the vic's warehouse, and had accounted for over half of the stuff already. She was sure that they'd soon have narrowed their search down to just a couple of cases. That was when they could really start looking for their murderer.

And it was all thanks to Castle's leap of deduction. She smiled to herself, contemplating the man. She'd been in love with his mind for years, ever since she'd picked up a copy of Hell Hath No Fury. He dismissed that book as one of his "lesser works", but it had always held a special place in her heart, as the one that had taken her, even temporarily, out of her world of grief and pain, and placed her in the fantastical world of murderous witches and adept detectives. It had been a shock when she'd met the man behind the stories that had entranced her, and discovered a boisterous man-child who somehow slipped all measures employed to control him.

But before long, she'd realized that brain was as sharp as his novels always indicated. He could look at the facts of a case, and come up with a theory within minutes. Ok, so they weren't always plausible, some were plain crazy, but he never stopped trying. Sooner or later, he'd hit the right note, and carry her along with him. It intrigued her how often they'd both arrive at the same answer, despite the vastly different thought processes they used.

And before too long, she had forgiven the man she'd almost idolized for being so different to what she'd expected, and began to appreciate him for what he was. Her smile widened as she reminisced over the fun they'd had this past couple of years. He'd wrought changes in her that she'd never have imagined. She still saw cops in the office react with surprise when, instead of biting down and rejecting the jokey camaraderie, she embraced it, often coming out on top. Yes, she'd always had a sisterly sort of relationship with Esposito, and Ryan, despite being so clearly scared of her when he first arrived, had wormed his way into her affections as well. But she had usually been too caught up in doing her job to be any more than courteous and professional with most of the other officers.

Kate remembered telling Castle that he made her job more fun, and he had. But more than that, he'd made her feel like she could actually have fun at work, without feeling guilty about it. He'd become a good friend. At that, the smile slipped, and she frowned instead. _A friend? That's not what he is, and you know it. _Her conversation with Lanie the previous morning flashed through her head, her admission that she wanted Castle as more than a friend. She couldn't deny it now, but she didn't know what to do about it.

_If I take a risk, if I'm brave enough, it could all go so horribly wrong. _If it did, she'd be hurt. Badly. She really wasn't sure she could withstand that, not after how difficult it had been getting over Will. _He left, what if Castle does too?_ This screenplay wasn't going away, she knew. Whatever his reservations, his reasons for staying in New York, they had to be outweighed eventually by the chance to further his career. She shook her head, angry at herself for allowing negativity to ruin her musings so soon. She couldn't do anything about that possibility, it was going to be Castle's decision, and she wouldn't interfere. Definitely not.

Trying to deflect her concerns, she stood up and walked over to Ryan and Esposito, who were both staring at their computer screens, in what seemed to be placid study. "Hey, guys," she called, rousing them, "Anything interesting?"

Ryan spoke first, rolling his shoulders as though they were stiff. "Not anything huge. Managed to cross another robbery off our list. It looks like most of this stuff was taken when the owners were away. No violence to speak of. I guess the vic had a reputation, after squealing on those guys." He looked over to his partner, tagging him in with a nod.

"Yeah," Esposito began, brandishing a file, "There were a couple of muggings, watches, wallets and jewellery. No more violence than a bit of pushing, though. The vic's in each case said the muggers were young. Teenagers probably."

Kate pondered this. It wasn't that unusual, really, to have muggers refrain from using violence. Good sense really, unless it was unavoidable. But every one of these cases were robberies done without injury to the victims. "Don't you think it's a bit weird, that not one piece that was recovered from our vic was taken with violence?" Both Ryan and Esposito nodded vigorously, having followed this train of thought themselves whilst reviewing the cases.

"Maybe more people than Demming thought knew about the guy's aversion to violent crime." Esposito reasoned. Ryan nodded, and Kate felt inclined to draw the same conclusion.

"So either he would only fence stuff taken without violence, or only those thieves who took without hurting people would go to him." She thought those seemed to be the likely options. "I don't really get it, though. If a guy gets a reputation for informing to the police, how long is he going to last in the criminal underworld?"

"Not long," Ryan stated with a snort. "I still think that's our most likely motive."

"Maybe," Kate allowed, "But Tom's guys made those arrests six months ago, the trials were fast tracked by the guilty pleas. It's all been done and dusted for a good four months. If anyone knew about what the vic had done, they'd have gone after him before now."

"Well, according to these cases, plenty of people do know. Or at least suspect." Esposito sounded frustrated, and Kate could understand why.

_From progress to standstill in an instant_, she thought. "OK, let's forget the violence aspect, for the time being, and focus on narrowing down our list of suspects. How many cases are left to account for?"

"From the ones Robbery sent up, just eight." Ryan said, glancing at the files still stacked on his desk.

"Right, well let's get them cleared. It's not out of the realms of possibility that one of those will tell us that someone had something very important to them stolen, and it won't be in the list of items we found." They both sighed heavily, but avoided making eye contact with her as she quirked an eyebrow. "No complaints? Good."

As she was turning to go back to her desk, she caught sight of a familiar and welcome figure stepping off the elevator. "Afternoon, Castle," She called, her lips curving in a pleased smile. "I thought you were busy preparing for your big trip."

The smile he sent back at her warmed her heart. "I was, I have. All packed and ready to go. No thanks to Alexis and my mother."

"Why, what did they do?" Kate asked, falling into step with him as he headed for the break room. "I thought they'd be glad to get some peace for a few days."

His fake laugh at that made her want to giggle, except that Kate Beckett didn't giggle. Ever. "They were fine with me leaving, just critical of my wardrobe." She eyed him up and down, as though critiquing the clothes he was wearing.

"They aren't so bad, Castle." She told him, playfully, "Though you could do with a lint brush."

"Thank you, Detective," He replied, nodding in gratitude at her advice. "I'll let you off for the crack, though. I can see it was just an excuse to check me out." Kate felt her cheeks flush, and cursed inwardly at how easy it was for him to get a reaction out of her.

Castle busied himself at the espresso machine, "Why, Beckett, you're looking awfully pink all of a sudden. Was it something I said?"

"Now who's checking who out, Castle?" She retorted, determined to give as good as she got, then regretted it when he smirked.

"Oh, I'm not going to pretend to have done otherwise. You're always worth checking out." He handed her a cup of coffee and she dipped her head, not wanting him to see the pleasure that simple act gave her. Especially after yesterday. "So, how's the case going? Any suspects yet?"

Kate looked up at him, and realized that he must have seen her reaction to the coffee. There was a softness to his expression, and a light in his eyes that made her feel flustered again. "Um… yeah. I mean no… No one yet. We're working through the cases from Robbery, eliminating them."

"Good," he said, smiling at her intently. "Because there's something I want to talk to you about."

She just looked at him, not sure what to say. Clearly this was going to be important, but she wasn't sure she was ready for whatever it was he was going to tell her. She opened her mouth to voice those doubts, but he raised a finger and placed it over her lips, shocking her into silence. "Just let me talk, ok?" She nodded, a frisson of heat spreading through her, originating at her lips, where his finger was still pressed.

Kate watched, a bundle of nerves now, as he quickly closed the break room door and returned to stand in front of her. He took a deep breath, and she saw that he was as nervous as her. "Right." He started, staring into her eyes, "As you know, I'm going to L.A tomorrow, for four days. I'll be back sometime on Wednesday evening." She knew this already. This wasn't why he was acting so strangely.

He continued, "I know this is far from the ideal way to do this, but if I wait until I get back, I might lose my nerve." Now she was worried. _Lose his nerve over what?_

He took another deep breath, and then let it out in a rush. "Kate, I'm fond of you. More than fond. I'd really like to get to know you better, in a non-professional capacity. Starting when I get back from L.A." Kate was astounded, trying to absorb his words and make sense of them. They ran so close to the thoughts she'd been having all day that she couldn't quite believe the coincidence. Still, that thread of fear remained, and clearly it ran through both of them.

She struggled for a moment before finding her voice. "Castle, are you asking me out on a date?" The voice she found was almost unrecognizable, quavering and unsure.

"Yes." He answered, and she let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding, her whole body sagging. He obviously didn't know how to take that reaction, because he hurriedly added, "Don't answer now. Just think about it, please." His eyes had taken on a fervent cast now, as he stared at her face. His hands came up, as though he'd grasp her arms, but fell away and he backed off. "I'm going to go now, and let you decide. No pressure."

Kate tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come, and she just watched him rush out of the break room, calling a hasty farewell to Ryan and Esposito, who looked up, baffled. _Wow._ That was it. The totality of her thoughts at the moment. Her brain was frozen, but the rest of her body felt hot, searing.

She was glad he'd given her these four days to decide, because she had to be sure she got this one right. Her heart was screaming at her to throw sense out of the window and follow it blindly, but her dreary, safe head was already giving her a list of reasons why she should run and hide before it all went wrong. This would be the biggest risk she'd taken in years. Did she dare?

* * *

**So, what will Kate decide? You'll probably find out in the next day or two. Please review.**

**Bonus points for anyone who can find the bit I lifted from Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series.  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**This one's a bit more introspective, and quicker paced, than previous chapters, but I wanted to get as much of the L.A trip out of the way in one go. I had a few ideas for scenes between Castle and the Hollywood set, but ultimately didn't think them necessary.**

**Also, I felt I wanted to get a particular scene written, after yesterday's episode. Quite cathartic, as it turned out.**

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* * *

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Rick shifted for the fourth time in as many minutes, too full of nervous energy to sit still. He cast his eyes around the first class compartment, impatient for the plane to take off. There were only a few other people in this section, and he was glad to have no one sat next to him. He didn't mind company, but too often, people recognised him, and insisted on asking those questions that he hated. 'Where do you get your ideas?' and 'did you always want to be a writer?'

He sighed, and settled back into his seat, stilling the fingers that were drumming a frantic beat on the armrest. Anyone watching him would think he was scared of flying, but that wasn't it at all. He was replaying yesterday's conversation over and over in his head. Well, he had to admit, it hadn't really been a conversation. Beckett hadn't said much.

He'd tried to read her reactions, but hadn't been able to identify much more than stunned surprise. _I can't blame her for that, _he conceded, _it's not like I've shown any willingness before to actually do something._ He'd already decided, before he spoke to her, that he'd flee as soon as he'd laid it out for her. Rick knew he was taking a big chance, telling her and then disappearing for the better part of a week, but like he'd told her, if he hadn't spoken now he would have struggled to build up the courage to do it after getting back from California.

That knowledge wasn't going to make it any easier to get through this trip without his mind being fixated on what Beckett's decision might be. He'd forced the issue, given her a choice to make. Him or Demming, and he really didn't know what he'd do if she chose the other man.

A stewardess approached him then, smiling prettily and telling him they'd be taking off in a couple of minutes. He thanked her, and gave her his best charming Richard Castle smile. She blushed attractively, "If you need anything, Mr Castle, anything at all, please let me know."

"Oh, I definitely will, Bianca, thank you." He replied, reading her name tag, and then watched appreciatively as she sashayed away down the aisle. Smiling to himself, he thought, _not too long ago I'd be thinking about getting her phone number, and asking if she had an overnight stay in L.A before her next flight._ He was willing to forego the evident pleasures of that now, hoping that he had something much better waiting for him when he returned to New York. He was determined not to do anything stupid that might jeopardize his chances with Kate Beckett. Rick sat back in his seat again, and decided he was much less likely to get into trouble if he just looked out of the window instead.

Before too long, true to Bianca's word, the plane started to taxi away from the terminal, and took off. Rick exhaled heavily, not really looking forward to the next six hours alone with his own thoughts. He'd thought Paula would be coming with him, and had anticipated employing a dozen different strategies to annoy her for the duration. But she'd told him yesterday evening, when she called to make sure he was ready, that she had too much to do in New York. She'd also let slip that his publishers were looking for an update on his progress on Naked Heat. He winced a little at the title. So far, he'd managed to keep Beckett from finding out about it, even keeping it off his website, but he was pretty sure she'd be far from happy.

Still, thinking about the book prodded his conscience, and he reluctantly reached into his bag to retrieve his laptop. Glumly staring at the screen as it started up, he wondered if he'd be able to write anything today.

* * *

As it turned out, he surprised himself. Maybe the pressurized air of the cabin stimulated his creative juices, but he felt like he was actually getting somewhere, and by the time the pilot announced they were approaching LAX, he was actually annoyed that the flight was about to end.

Rick was hefting his suitcase towards the exit when he spotted a skinny young man, wearing a suit that was too big for him, holding up a sign with his name on it. The kid noticed him at almost the same time, and grinned. "Mr Castle?" He called, scurrying over. "I'm Leonard. Bruce sent me to pick you up and take you to your hotel."

Rick shook his hand and said, "You sure you're old enough to drive?" Leonard hastily began to confirm his age, apparently taking Rick's jibe seriously. "Don't worry, Lenny, I was just joking. Lead on. Oh, and call me Rick"

The boy insisted on carrying Rick's bag for him, and began talking a mile a minute about what an honour it was to meet such a famous and talented writer. Rick watched him, amused at his earnest enthusiasm, as he led him out of the airport to the huge Mercedes waiting outside. _Nice ride, _he thought, and was even more impressed when he found a mini bar in the back, though he decided not to take advantage of it. _Well, so far they're living up to Paula's promise of A-list treatment._

He was starting to feel a little overawed, despite himself, when Leonard pulled up to a grand looking hotel. He looked out of the window to realise it was the Four Seasons. Laughing quietly to himself, he decided he might just be in a strong enough position to alter the terms of the deal the producers were proposing.

Leonard leapt out of the car and rushed around to open the door for him, then gathered his bag from the trunk. "You've got an executive suite reserved, Mr. Castle." He informed Rick. "And Mr. Parker said that they'd like to meet with you tomorrow for breakfast, to talk about your book."

"That should be fine, Lenny," Rick said, gazing at the sumptuous interior of the hotel as they entered. "I'm sure wherever they pick will be more than acceptable."

Leonard spoke with the receptionist in hushed tones, and Rick decided he could certainly get used to this, an assistant who dealt with all the tedious details of his life. In short order, he and Leonard had been joined by a uniformed little man who insisted on showing them to the suite. And Rick was soon standing in the most luxurious suite he'd ever seen, embracing the silence that had fallen when Leonard had departed, assuring him that he'd be back in the morning to take Rick to wherever Bruce picked for their meeting.

He pottered around the suite for a while, checking things out, playing with the gadgets and thoroughly enjoying himself. He was soon drawn to the balcony, and exclaimed loudly when he took in the size of it and the view of Los Angeles it offered. _Well, Ricky, you really are going up in the world._ He could certainly afford to stay in this suite, but he'd never dream of doing so if it was on his own dime. _I wonder what else I can get them to pay for,_ he thought mischievously as he fished his phone out of his pocket to call Alexis and let her know he'd arrived safely.

* * *

The next morning, Rick woke bright and early, eager to start hashing things out with the guys from the studio. He had a lot of questions, and still harboured more than a few doubts over moving out here for the whole summer. _Still, if they're going to spring for accommodation like this…_ The thought trailed off as he checked his phone for messages and missed calls. He'd half hoped there might be something from Beckett, perhaps telling him she'd kicked Demming to the kerb and was awaiting Rick's triumphant return with bated breath. No such luck.

That was something else he might have to consider. In truth, he really hoped he would have to consider it. What would he do about the movie deal if Beckett told him she wanted him? Would he come to L.A regardless, and ask her to wait for him? Maybe he could get her to come with him. That idea was dismissed as soon as he came up with it. _She'd never abrogate her responsibilities for that long. Perhaps a weekend or two._ That was certainly worth a second thought. Or maybe, if she took him up on his offer, he would be prepared to give up on the screenplay opportunity entirely.

It was all too much to try and get to the bottom of right now. He was just about to turn on the television and relax when his phone did ring. He scrambled for it in a manner that was completely unseemly for Richard Castle, even though the general ring tone had told him it wasn't her. Instead, it was Leonard. "Good morning, Mr. Castle." He chirped, "Mr. Parker sent me to see if you're ready. I'm down in the lobby. Do you want me to come up?"

"No, don't bother, Lenny. I'm as ready as I'm going to be. I'll come down."

Leonard ferried him to a small, expensive looking pancake house, with a large open terraced. Rick was escorted onto the terrace, noticing in passing how many people seemed to give him loaded glances. But they were watching everything and everyone with the same interest. _Hollywood, _he thought, wryly amused, _the land where any piece of gossip could be worth a million dollars._

Bruce Parker, bleached blond hair, sunglasses and a tight black t-shirt, saw him coming and stood up, his arms wide in greeting. "Rick! It's wonderful to see you. How are you doing?" Rick smiled at the flamboyant little man and stepped forward for the embrace that he knew it would be futile to try avoiding.

* * *

Kate sat back in her chair and huffed, glaring at the murder board in front of her with a degree of malice she usually reserved for the murderers themselves. In the two days since Castle jetted off to Tinseltown, she, Esposito and Ryan had been turning over every little rock they could find, looking for some sort of link that would give them a breakthrough. All of the cases sent up from Robbery were clean. They'd interviewed each victim, confirmed that their possessions could be returned when they were no longer considered evidence, and established that they were still nowhere.

Glancing up at the clock, she realised how late it was, and decided she should probably go home soon, before Tom came looking for her, intent on getting her to have dinner with him. Ever since Castle had dropped her jaw to the floor on Saturday, she'd been trying and failing to make a decision about him. One minute, she'd be determined that the first thing she'd do when she saw him again was grab him and kiss him, then the doubts rose up again, putting her in reverse and causing her to decide that she'd tell him she couldn't.

One thing she did know, though, was that she had to break up with Tom. Whatever she ended up doing about Castle, she had to end things with him first. It wasn't fair, leading him on when she had recognised the feelings she had for another man. Tom was a lovely guy, and the last thing she wanted to do was let him get caught up in the drama that was sure to ensue when Castle returned. She did like him, and enjoyed spending time with him, but that just didn't seem to be enough right now. Unfortunately, the right opportunity hadn't yet arisen to tell him. Or rather, opportunities might have come up, but she'd been too much of a coward to tell him.

Kate cringed at herself, thinking back to at least three occasions in the last couple of days where she should have told him she couldn't see him again. She really wasn't good at this sort of thing.

"Beckett, we're going to head off. Fancy joining us in drowning our frustrations?" She looked up to see Esposito standing at her shoulder, studiously ignoring the board. She smiled and shook her head.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm going to stick around for a little longer. Inspiration might strike." He looked at her dubiously, but then nodded and bade her a good night. Kate watched as he and Ryan headed for the elevator, already bickering about whether they were going to play pool or darts at the bar. She turned her attention back to the board, trying to focus on the facts of the case they did have.

A few minutes later, a shadow fell across her and she looked up to see Tom Demming smiling down at her. "Hey, Kate. Fancy getting something to eat?"

She eyed him uncomfortably for a moment. So far, she'd managed to avoid going on any dates with him, formal or otherwise, and thus been able to avoid 'the talk'. She sensed that wasn't going to be possible this time. Looking up at him, a serious expression on her face, she simply said, "Tom, I need to talk to you."

The gravity of the situation registered with him straight away, and he took a half step backwards, frowning slightly. "Ok. I think I know what's coming, but ok." He sat down and leant forward, resting his arms on his knees. "Shoot."

Kate watched him, unsettled by his claim that he knew what she was going to say, and she suddenly felt even worse than she had before. She looked down for a moment, trying to compose what she hoped would be as painless a rejection as possible. "Tom… you're a good man, you really are. And I've enjoyed spending time with you…"

He cut her off, "I'm just not him, right?" She looked up in surprise, to see a sour look on his face. She opened her mouth to tell him that wasn't it at all, but he continued. "I should have known. Hell, I did know, I asked him if anything was going on before I even approached you." Tom shook his head, as though he couldn't believe his own naivety. "But he told me I was clear to make a move."

"Castle said that?" Kate asked, startled. _He gave Tom permission? What right…_ She felt anger start to rise, that the two of them had discussed her in that manner. Before she could give in to it, Tom spoke again.

"He's a nice guy, Kate, if a little… out there, at times. I can understand why you have feelings for him. But I think you're going to regret it if you fall for him."

That statement doused Beckett's anger as quickly as it had ignited. "Tom, I'm not breaking up with you for him." He cocked his head, and smiled doubtfully. "I'm not. I just don't feel that this relationship is going to go anywhere, and I don't want to be unfair to you."

"Come on, Kate. I'm a detective, remember? And even if I wasn't, I have eyes. I see the way he looks at you, and the way you refuse to look at him when he does." Kate just stared at him blankly, fighting the perverse desire to deny what he was saying. "Honestly, I didn't mind that you were confused about him, as long as it was me you were kissing." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "Guess I should have minded."

She started to deny it again, and this time saw a flash of anger on Tom's face. "Kate, be honest with me, please. I'm not stupid." That stopped her dead, and she just sat there watching him as he struggled to smooth his expression. After a moment, he added, "I'm a big boy, Kate, you don't need to sugar-coat this."

Kate sighed then, and made an effort to meet his gaze, as she told him, "Ok. Castle told me he has feelings for me, and wants to pursue them. I still don't know if I'm going to agree to that. I don't know if it's worth the risk." Tom's expression brightened a little, and she quickly continued before she saw a flicker of hope reignite. "But I'm not going to deny that I want to take that step. So that's why I can't see you anymore." She felt an enormous release of pressure as she spoke those words. Her whole body felt lighter.

Tom just sat there, looking as though all that pressure had shifted onto his shoulders. "Right. Fine." He looked down at the floor between his feet again, his hands clasped. "I guess there's nothing I can really say to that." He stood, abruptly, and gazed down at her with something like real regret in his eyes. "It's been a lot of fun, Kate. And it's a shame it won't be more. We could have been really good together."

Silently, she watched him leave. _Yes, we could have been good together, _she thought ruefully, _but not good enough. _She exhaled heavily, and sat back in her chair, feeling drained. _Well, at least I achieved something today_, she reflected. Then, gathering up her bag and coat, she made her way out of the precinct. That was one difficult task out of the way, now she had a day to accomplish one infinitely more difficult. Would she take Richard Castle up on his offer, and agree to go on a date with him. She was quite sure that one date wouldn't be enough to satisfy her, but at the same time, it would be too much to just experience and move on

* * *

"Hey, Ricky. So glad you could come, man!" Rick grinned at the young man who had opened the door, and was ushering him inside.

"What, are you kidding, Ted? I'm going home tomorrow, I wasn't going to miss one last chance to attend a snazzy Hollywood shindig." Ted was one of the writers he'd been introduced to by Bruce and the other producers. He and Rick had spent several long sessions going through Heat Wave, and Rick was grateful for the input he'd given. What would work well onscreen, what might need tweaking, what would be better off excluded completely, it was a whole new way of looking at his work, and, whilst it was more than a little humbling to have someone critique your work in such detail, it was refreshing and made him want to work even harder to master the new version of his book. The one that would play out on big screens all across the world.

It had been a blessing, in a way, that he'd had so little time to relax and enjoy himself this past three days. Whenever he got a moment to himself, his thoughts inexorably slid three thousand miles east, to a woman who was hopefully waiting for him to return so she could declare that she was willing to give him a chance to prove himself worthy of her. Kate Beckett had even started to invade his dreams now, doing things he'd barely ever allowed himself to imagine, and he was waking up tormented and sweating, guilt and desire coalescing into a heady mixture. He'd not been so affected by a woman since his teenage years, when he'd first met Kyra.

This party was a chance for him to have a few drinks, have some fun and try to put her out of his mind, for a few hours at least. Not to mention the fact that he thought he deserved to blow off some steam, after working pretty solidly with the producers and writers since Monday afternoon. _All work and no play makes Rick a dull boy,_ he grinned at that.

Ted led him into the house, and Rick saw there were already a good two dozen people there. Ted was dating an actress who worked on the show he was currently writing, so there were plenty of beautiful people, along with those who were clearly Ted's writer friends. Normally, Rick would have gravitated to one breathtaking woman or another within a few minutes, even if his only intentions were to make conversation and flirt outrageously, but tonight, he didn't trust himself.

Those dreams of Beckett had made him painfully aware that it was a while since he'd had sex, and he was suffering from an extreme case of thwarted lust and yearning. Not exactly an ideal state to be in when the room was full of gorgeous young women, some of whom, Ted had whispered to him that afternoon, were as easy as they were hot.

Rick mingled for about an hour, chatting amiably with Ted's friends, gracefully accepting the compliments about his writing and the congratulations that he'd 'made it big' now his book was going to be on the silver screen. But after the third, less than subtle, proposition from women who were closer to Alexis' age than his own, he decided to retreat to the safety of the bar, and drown his ardour in scotch.

Luckily, he found a companion at the bar, an older, tired looking guy, who immediately started telling Rick about the problems he was having with the stars of the show he was writing for at the moment. Their prima-donna personalities and extravagant demands. Not to mention their constant insistence on changing lines so they could claim they co-wrote their own material. Rick listened sympathetically, and with growing trepidation.

His glittery dreams of Hollywood nirvana had taken a hit in the last few days. It wasn't exactly the paradise he'd imagined it to be. He recalled now the meetings with Bruce and his fellow execs, and the few changes he'd proposed, to make the book more workable as a movie. They'd had the same response to each and every one. "Great. Love it, Rick. That's a keeper." The same sentiment each time, so eventually he'd come up with the idea of making Rook a secret agent who was only pretending to be a writer. It was a ridiculous notion, and one that should have had him laughed out of the room. But still, they told him they loved it. He was reminded of an old Woody Allen quote, that Hollywood was the only place where they "kill you with compliments". He could tell that they were just agreeing with anything he suggested, wanting him to sign up with them and get on with writing the movie, which he'd then have to hack up and change until it was the movie _they_ wanted to make.

His anger was growing, that they would tarnish this vision of his with their dirty little practicalities. He decided that the scotch would drown that just as effectively as it would his salacity. His new drinking buddy mumbled something about 'draining the weasel', which made Castle wince, and staggered off, leaving him alone at the bar.

He stared into his scotch, watching the ice slowly melt, pondering his next move, the alcohol making his thoughts slightly fuzzy. His mind drifted to Beckett, and then answer he hoped he had waiting for him in New York. _What do I do if she says no? If she tells me she wants Demming?_ He downed his drink in an attempt to wash that thought away. _Could I keep shadowing her, knowing she was with him?_

He had just decided he was going to call it a night, and try to get a night's sleep uninterrupted by her, when he heard a familiar voice that froze him to the spot.

"Hello, Kitten. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes? You didn't really think you were going to visit my town without paying me a little visit, did you?"

He slowly turned around, and fixed a grin onto his face, and there she was. She looked incredible, as always, and he felt that spike of lust returning, more unwelcome now than ever. "Meredith." He exclaimed, sure that Alexis had told him she wouldn't be around. "How wonderful to see you."

* * *

**So, I didn't expect Meredith to show up when I wrote chapter 7, but there she is. Odd when that happens.**

**The reviews so far have been amazing, and gratifying. Please continue to tell me your thoughts.  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**This is the longest one yet, and was the most difficult to write, simply because of that damn case. So I decided to get it out of the way with as little fuss as possible. I was considering a whole conspiracy storyline, involving corrupt robbery detectives (not Demming) and killing the guy because he knew too much. In the end, I figured it wouldn't be that interesting.**

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* * *

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Rick groaned, shielding his eyes against the blazing sunlight that suddenly hit him. _What's going on?_ He wondered, blearily trying to figure out where he was. His head was pounding, every muscle in his body ached, and his tongue felt like an old piece of leather. He knew this feeling. _Hangover._

"Come on, Richard, time to get up." Her voice trilled happily, cutting through the murky haze of his mind like a scalpel. _Meredith! Oh God, please tell me I didn't…_ His head shot up to look at her, and the sudden movement turned the volume of the jackhammer behind his eyes up to eleven. He groaned, again and tried to focus on her, distress and panic threatening to set in.

Meredith stood by the french window that led out onto the balcony, having thrown the curtains back to so disturb his slumber, "You look terrible, sweetie." She informed him, her lips quirking into a smile as she took in the sorry sight before her. "I told you to ease up on the drink, but would you listen?" She threw her hands up and headed for the bedroom door, "No, of course you wouldn't."

Rick scrambled up to follow her, and belatedly realised he was naked, _Oh God,_ the thought came again. Snatching up a sheet from the very rumpled and messy looking bed, he covered his nudity and hustled after her. "Meredith, what… what's going on? What happened?"

She turned around and stopped, looking him up and down in frank appraisal and no little amusement. "Trying to protect your dignity? Don't you think it's a little late for that?" She quirked an eyebrow at him as he pulled the sheet more tightly around his waist. She had that expression on her face. The one that gloated, 'I know something you don't know'. The one he hated.

He fixed her with a glare, barely holding onto the last vestiges of his patience. "Meredith, what did we do last night? I can't remember." He was surprised at how calm his voice sounded.

She seemed close to outright laughter now, and Rick had to fight the urge to grab her and shake her. "You really don't remember?" Usually, a night between the sheets with Meredith would be something that he had no problem with, even if he couldn't recall the details, but now… If he couldn't even keep his pants up for three days, how could he ever hope to win Kate Beckett's heart? What would he do? Keep this from her, and start what he hoped would be a relationship with dishonesty? Tell her, and face her realization that he wouldn't change, that he wasn't worth it? He could see the future that he'd only just dared to start picturing drifting away like so much dust on the wind.

Meredith continued mercilessly. "You don't remember doing shots of tequila, you went through a whole bottle, and confessing you were a new man? Turning over a new leaf, and leaving your life of meaningless and empty relationships behind you?" She was still smiling. "You do get so pompous after a few drinks. Though I've got to say, Richard, I never thought I'd see the day. Even when you married whatsherface, I knew it wouldn't last, but this time, you actually convinced me."

Rick fought the relief that was starting to trickle through him. _Be sure, _he cautioned. "So we didn't… I didn't…"

"Oh please." She scoffed, "As if you'd even have been capable of it, in your condition." She directed a meaningful look at his crotch. Stung, he curled his hands around himself, protectively.

Still, that relief that had been lapping at his consciousness surged through him now. _We didn't! Oh, thank you, Lord!_ But then, a thought occurred to him. "Well, if we didn't… do anything, why are you here? And why am I naked?"

She waved her hand dismissively, "Oh, it's nothing I haven't seen before, and I know you prefer to sleep au naturele. You were in no fit state to order a cab, and you couldn't remember where you were staying, so I decided to take pity on you."

Rick tried to cast his mind back, to recall the previous night, but things got hazy not long after Meredith appeared, and then there was a black void. _That's several hours of my life that I'll never get back_, he thought, wonderingly. He really couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten that drunk, but suspected it might have been in the aftermath of his first divorce. "I was really that bad?" He asked, reluctantly.

Meredith leveled him with a withering look. "You couldn't speak, and were barely able to stand up." She bridled a little at his surprised look. "Oh, don't look so shocked. We may not be married any more, but that doesn't mean I'd abandon you in that state. And stop worrying that you betrayed Detective Beckett, I slept in the other bedroom." She gestured vaguely to the opposite side of the suite. "Now, get dressed. You owe me breakfast."

* * *

"So, Richard, how's our daughter?" They were sitting on the terrace outside the restaurant in the hotel, and Rick thought Meredith had taken an undue amount of glee in choosing the most expensive items on the menu. Now he'd had time to gather himself, he was actually enjoying her company.

"She's great, as usual. Starting to think about colleges, which is making my wallet ache, but that's what it's for, right?" Rick smiled at the thought of his little girl going to college, of how good it would feel to pay for it.

"And what about boys? She told me all about the Owen debacle, but I said that's just how boys are. Inconstant and unreliable." Rick decided to let that slide. It was her inconstancy that had ended their marriage, but that certainly wasn't worth bringing up right now.

"No, not really anything to report. There was the ridiculously handsome violin teacher she found, but it turns out he's as gay as the day is long, so I've no problems with that." He grinned, recalling how smug Alexis had been in ridiculing those initial reservations he'd had to Dylan being alone with her.

"Well," Meredith said breezily, "She's got plenty of time for boys. Good for her that she's got her priorities straight. God knows, so few of us do." Rick nodded at that, painfully aware of just how long it had taken to figure out what he wanted.

Meredith leaned forward, eyes bright with interest. "So, what about you, Richard? You certainly talked about her enough last night. Her name's Kate, isn't it. I met her when I was last in New York. Very pretty, but she looked a bit too straight-laced for you."

"Oh, she's not as uptight as all that," Rick said, recalling that meeting with a tinge of embarrassment. "Once you get to know her, she's really a lot of fun."

"Mmm, but it's not just fun you want with her, is it?" She eyed him knowingly, smirking.

"No," he replied, honestly. "It's not. It's taken me long enough to figure it out, and I had to see her with another man to understand, but she really is someone special."

Meredith smiled genuinely now. "Well, I'm happy for you, Richard, believe it or not. I didn't think I would be, especially when I realised last night that you were turning me down." She widened her eyes dramatically. "I mean, me! You've never been able to resist before."

"It was still difficult, Meredith, believe me. You're like nothing else I've ever experienced, but I just can't risk screwing this up."

"I understand, Richard. Don't worry about it. Besides, now I know you're not going to be pining for me, I can move on to something new myself." Rick shook his head at that. Meredith always did have an odd take on events. "But just remember, if things don't work out with your new friend, we can always work on revising our top ten."

Rick smiled, knowing this was as close as she was going to get to sentimental. "I will definitely remember that, Meredith."

* * *

Rick's flight back to New York was uneventful. He slept for a while, tried to write a little more of Naked Heat, and generally tried to avoid thinking too much. Still, despite all his efforts, he just couldn't get Kate Beckett out of his head. With every minute, he was drawing closer to her, and what he hoped would be the moment of truth, the moment that she decided to trust him. He looked at his watch again, realizing he wouldn't land in New York until after 7pm, and for the past five hours, he'd been made more and more painfully aware that flying with a hangover was something no sane person would do voluntarily. _I'm in no fit state to seek her out tonight, and besides, she won't be at the precinct by the time I could get there. _He briefly considered going to her apartment, but shuddered away from that idea when he remembered the existence of a certain Tom Demming. There was no way he was going to rush over there without warning, and possibly get blindsided if she had chosen the other man. _No, just go home. Alexis will have missed me, Martha will want to hear about L.A and I need a proper night's sleep. _He was now resolute on the issue. _I'll see her tomorrow. The precinct's as close to neutral ground as I can manage._

Still, he almost told the taxi driver at the airport to take him to where she lived. The New York air had revived him, and he was full of a nervous energy, unable to relax. In the end, he forced the foolish impulse to the back of his mind, and gave the taxi driver his home address.

* * *

He barreled into the loft, bellowing Alexis' name, and barely had time to put his suitcase down before he was hit in the midriff by a teenaged, strawberry blond battering ram. Alexis wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him almost tightly enough to make it difficult to breathe. "Dad! You're back. I've really missed you."

"I missed you too, pumpkin." He replied, hugging her to him and tousling her hair with his free hand. Over the top of her head, he spied his mother, watching the reunion with a warm smile on her face. "I missed you as well, mother."

Alexis pulled away from him, and peered up into his face. "So, what was it like? Did you have fun? You didn't sound too thrilled when you called on Tuesday night."

He looked down at her, feeling a little less buoyant than he had a moment ago. "It had its good points, but let's just say I've now got a much more realistic view of how things are done out there." Instead of answering her questioning look, he guided her into the living room and flopped down onto the couch, his exhaustion suddenly catching up with him again. Alexis burrowed into his side, her head resting on his shoulder.

"You look tired." She observed, and he simply nodded.

Martha watched this with a little concern. "Richard, she's right. You look positively exhausted."

"Oh, I'll be as right as rain after a good night's sleep. I've just been working long hours out there, and well, had a bit of a blow out last night."

"Oh, a bit too much to drink, Richard?" Martha laughed at his irritated expression. "You never could handle it properly." She turned to Alexis, and continued, "I tell you, Alexis, the first time he came home drunk, you should have heard the noises coming from the bathroom. I thought he was going to vomit up his own intestines."

"Thank you for that image, mother." Rick intervened, ignoring his daughter's amused disgust. "Oh, and by the way, guess who I ran into." He prompted them.

Without a pause, Alexis answered. "Mom." He blinked at her, and she giggled. "She asked me not to tell you she'd be back in L.A before you left. We thought it would be a nice surprise for you. Was it?"

"Well, it was certainly a surprise. Though she caught me at an inopportune moment."

"Were you chatting up a hottie?" Alexis asked, simpering at him.

"No, actually. I was intent on getting drunk. But it turned out for the best, I think. We ended up doing shots together, until I apparently blacked out."

"Classy, dad." Alexis said, screwing her face up in distaste. "Are you sure they'll want you to go back, now?" The reminder that he still had that big decision to make poured cold water on his spirits again, and he sighed heavily.

"Who knows, sweetie. It'd probably make things a lot simpler for us if they didn't." He glanced down at his watch, and saw it was still only 8pm, but he knew there was no way he was staying awake for much longer. "Think I'm going to get an early night. I'll need to be up bright and early in the morning. I dread to think how Beckett and the boys have been coping in my absence."

Martha raised her eyebrows at the mention of Beckett, and Rick realised he was going to be having at least one more conversation before his head hit the pillow. Alexis kissed him on the cheek and said she had some homework to do, disappearing up to her room.

Rick didn't have to wait long. "So, you're still intent on winning Kate's affections, then?" Martha asked, sitting down on the couch next to him.

"I am," He confirmed, then looked over at his mother and smiled wearily. "I had a hard time stopping myself from going straight to her apartment."

"Richard, you need to give that girl time and space to make up her mind." She cautioned him, stroking his arm idly. "I won't pretend to know her nearly as well as you do, but from what I've seen, she won't like feeling pressured, and she'll want to come to you on her terms."

Rick took this advice stoically, though he still longed to at least call her. Not even to demand an answer from her, but just to talk, to listen to her voice and try to make her laugh. Still, he answered, "I know, and you're right. The last thing I want to do is scare her off."

"Well, I'm glad you've some sense left in that head of yours." She looked at him, reprovingly, "Honestly, getting drunk with Meredith. You're lucky you didn't end up in jail."

"Good night, mother." He said, with a smile, and hauled himself up off the couch. She nodded absently and waved him away.

The last thought he remembered running through his head as he stretched out, happy to be in his own bed again, was, _I won't even mention it to her. Let her come to me._

_

* * *

_

"Hey, Beckett," Esposito called across the office, gesturing urgently for her to go over. "Come take a look at this."

Kate hurried over, hoping that he'd finally found something to go on. This case was starting to look uncrackable. There were no leads, no witnesses, and they were still guessing on the motive. "What is it, Esposito? Please tell me you've got something."

He grinned at her, looking so self satisfied that she wanted to swat him on the back of the head. "Oh, I think I might just. Check this out," He held up a file. "This guy was one of the people that Robbery referred to us. His house was burgled and we found a few bits of jewellery and an iPod, matching the descriptions he gave of stuff that was taken."

"So? We already checked these cases, didn't we?" Kate was lost. _Where's he going with this?_

"Yeah, and it did check out. But, I decided to cross reference all of those names that Demming gave us with convicted felons. Nothing turned up, so I widened the net, and searched against cases where charges were never proven." Esposito spun in his chair, and pointed at his computer screen. "This guy, one Peter Alvarez, was arrested fourteen months ago, and charged with possession with intent to distribute. But they couldn't make the charges stick."

Kate gaped at him. One of the robbery victims was a possible drug dealer. _So the DA couldn't get him, that doesn't mean he was innocent. _Her mind was churning now. _What if he had drugs stashed at his house when it was robbed? _"Ok, so maybe whoever robbed him took his drugs as well. And he managed to track the thieves back to our vic, who was now holding the other things taken."

Esposito nodded, taking over. "So Alvarez wants his drugs back, threatens the vic. He wants to know who stole his gear."

Ryan appeared at Kate's shoulder. "Only, the vic won't give them up. By all accounts, he was a regular boy scout in the criminal world. Didn't do violence, or drugs. The case file for those four kids Robbery got convicted tells us that he saw himself as some sort of kindly uncle to street kids and thieves."

Kate nodded, now really hot on the idea, "So the drug dealer loses his temper, reaches for the nearest heavy object, and swings." She glared at the photograph of Alvarez that was tucked into Esposito's file, becoming sure that this had to be the guys. "What was his alibi?"

Esposito's grin told her the good news. "At a bar with a couple of buddies, so he says."

"Alright, let's go and pick him up." She said, definitively. She glanced at her watch. Today was looking up already. It wasn't even 9:30 and they already had a strong suspect. _I wonder what time Castle will show up. _

She hadn't been able to get much sleep last night, fretting about him and what she should say to his proposition. Eventually though, she'd made her choice, and even though she wasn't completely comfortable with it, she felt it was the right choice. Now if he'd just get there and ask her, she could get it over with and tell him.

Leading Ryan and Esposito, Kate marched over to the elevator, forcing her mind back onto arresting one Mr. Peter Alvarez.

* * *

Rick bounded into the bullpen, coffee cups in hand, intent on making a big show of how pleased he was to be back, and maybe to show Beckett that things could still be comfortable between them, even before she told him what she had decided.

He was more than a little disappointed to find the place almost empty. He could see Stegner with her head buried in a filing cabinet, and a couple of the older guys chatting in the break room, but no Ryan, no Esposito, and no Beckett.

"Hey, welcome back, Castle. I hate to say it, but the place hasn't been quite the same without you." He turned and smiled at the voice. Captain Montgomery was leaning against the doorframe of his office, surveying his domain.

"It's good to be back, Captain. And I'm glad to see the precinct survived without me. But where is everyone?"

Montgomery grinned at him, knowingly. "By 'everyone', I take it you mean Beckett? Well, she's out arresting someone, I hope. This case has been doing a number on everyone."

Rick was intrigued. "The murdered fence? I thought you'd have got the guy by now." Montgomery frowned at him, a silent warning not to make any cracks at the expense of his officers, and Rick subsided. "I'll just sit here and wait for them to get back." He suggested, and took up his usual seat at the side of Beckett's desk.

Montgomery nodded. "Good idea, it should keep you out of trouble." He headed back into his office, and was soon looked harried as he studied a report that was a good two inches thick. _Probably the department's expenses receipts._ Rick thought dryly. He took a gulp of coffee, almost burning his tongue, and peered around, trying to think of some way to pass the time until the others returned. _Hmm, there really isn't much to do around here when no one's about, is there?_

_

* * *

_

Kate was quite pleased with herself, as she strode off the elevator in front of Ryan and Esposito, who were hauling a distraught looking Peter Alvarez between them. He'd tried to run when they got to the building he worked at, which was usually a pretty good sign that he'd done something.

She froze when she saw a familiar shape inhabiting the chair next to her desk. The chair that had been noticeably empty over the last few days. _Castle._ She'd known he was going to turn up at some point, but she'd thought she'd have time to prepare for it. As it was, she just stood there staring at the back of his head, until Esposito cleared his throat behind her, reminding her that she had more important things to do than obsess over Castle.

Flushed with embarrassment, she marched across the bullpen and yanked the door to the interrogation room open, without once glancing at the man who had just become aware of their return. Ryan guided Alvarez into the room, and sat him down, before standing back and warning him not to move.

"Hey, guys. Is that the killer?" Castle stood up and peered through the interrogation room window, eagerly. "Doesn't look like a guy who'd bludgeon someone to death with a crowbar."

Kate blinked, trying to think of an appropriate answer, and Esposito swooped in with the save. "We've told you before, Castle, everyone looks like a guy who'd bludgeon someone to death." He clapped Castle on the shoulder, "It's good to have you back, big guy. How was Tinseltown? Meet anyone special?"

Castle laughed. "If by 'special' you mean 'self obsessed and arrogant', then yes. Plenty of them."

Ryan couldn't resist a dig at that. "Well, you probably fit right in, then."

"Oh, you wound me, Detective. Compared to that crowd, I'm a picture of humility and reservation." Ryan and Esposito laughed at that, clearly pleased to see their partner in crime return.

Meanwhile, Kate was still trying to regain her composure. She had been watching the interaction of the three men, Castle in particular. He'd barely glanced at her, so far, and seemed more than content at the moment to banter with her colleagues. She didn't know what to think about that. _Doesn't he want to talk to me? Has he changed his mind since telling me what he wanted? _Then, another, more troubling thought hit her. _Did he meet someone in L.A? _The possibility of that hit her in the gut, and she suddenly felt slightly queasy.

That was why it took her a moment to realize that Ryan and Esposito had retreated to a safe distance, and were avoiding looking at her, suddenly alone in front of Castle, with such conviction that she knew they were going to be listening to every word. Castle was looking at her now, his eyes intent and a slight smile on his face.

She felt herself blushing again, and cursed inwardly. _How does he have this affect on me? _She'd never felt tongue-tied and lightheaded around him before this week. She didn't even know whether she liked the feeling or not.

"And what about you, Detective Beckett? Have you missed me?" His voice was soft, and intimate in a way that soothed that ache in her chest almost instantly, replacing it with a heat that she was quite sure she shouldn't be feeling in the workplace.

"I… Of course. You're a useful person to have around. Some of the time." His smile widened, and he looked amused at her discomfort. _Bastard! He's enjoying this._ She turned away from him and sat down at her desk, staring intently at her computer screen as she logged on. He was still watching her, she could feel his eyes, an almost physical sensation. Looking up, she saw that both Ryan and Esposito were watching her as well, ridiculously smug grins on their faces. "You two, go in there and get a confession out of Alvarez."

They both looked surprised, and Ryan had the temerity to ask, "What, you don't want to do that yourself, boss?" Her answering glare sent them both scuttling for the interrogation room, still sharing those smiles.

He was still watching her. "What, Castle?" She demanded, trying to keep a tight grip on her temper. It wasn't really him she was annoyed at. It wasn't his fault that she was feeling so off-balance. Except it was his fault.

Castle sat back down in his chair, and smiled disarmingly. "Nothing. Just surprised you're willing to let the boys take first crack at the suspect."

"Yeah, well, the training wheels have to come off sometime." He nodded at that, and poked the coffee cup that she hadn't noticed sitting on the desk, shoving it towards her. She glanced down at it. "Thanks, Castle."

"No worries. And it looks like I got here just in time. You're getting that caffeine deprived crankiness look."

"I don't get…" She winced at the pitch of her voice, then continued more quietly. "I don't get cranky, just annoyed when people are being unhelpful."

He leant away from her, an exaggerated look of contrition on his face. "Ok, I'm sorry. Tell me what I can do to help."

She eyed him suspiciously, wondering if he was laying a trap for her. "Just… listen to my theory, and tell me if you think there's anything we might have missed. "

Kate relayed the suspicions they had put together that morning, and explained how and where they thought they fitted into the case. Castle listened intently, interjecting every now and then to finish her sentences for her, which confirmed that they were indeed on the same page. When she'd finished, he nodded. "That all makes sense to me. Money's one of the only real motives for killing someone."

"Right. Good." She watched him for a moment, to see if he was going to segue into the conversation she'd been preparing for, but he just sat back, and let his eyes wander to the interrogation room door, as though he was wondering what Alvarez might be saying. Kate began typing up her arrest report, but couldn't stop her gaze from flickering towards him every minute or so. She was getting nervous now. The elephant in the room was standing at her shoulder, trumpeting down her ear, whilst Castle himself seemed not to have noticed it at all.

Without realizing it, she started watching him constantly, barely paying attention to her fingers that still darted across the keyboard. She glanced back at the screen, and cursed quietly when she saw the last five lines were complete gibberish. Thumping the delete button, she glared at Castle accusingly, and he smiled back, the picture of innocence.

That was when she snapped. "Ok, Castle, what are you playing at?" His eyebrows shot up, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Kate didn't let him get a word in. "Before you left, you dropped a bomb on me. You told me… _that_… and then swanned off to the other side of the country for four days. That wasn't fair!"

Castle seemed to realize that the moment had arrived, and all traces of levity and pretence dropped from his face. "Kate," The way he said her name was new. It was filled with a warmth and regard that sent a tingle through her. "I'm sorry about the way I did that. And I realize I blindsided you, but it was the only way I could think to do it." He shook his head, as though at a loss to explain his thoughts. "If I hadn't said it then, I might not have plucked up the courage to say it at all."

"And just what were you saying, Rick?" She blinked at the stunned look that appeared on his face, which quickly shifted into a delighted smile, then realized. _I called him Rick. I've never done that before._ "Wh… what I meant was, what did you mean? You want to go out, grab a bite to eat and chat? As friends? Or you want to finally get into my pants? Carve another notch on your bedpost"

"You know what I meant, Kate." He looked so assured now, so confident that it made her want to snarl at him. All she could do was stare, waiting for him to tell her. "I want to be with you, to know you. I want you to smile at me the way you smiled at him." He leaned forward, eyes searching. "I really think I can make you happy, Kate, if you'll just give me a chance."

She felt faint. To hear it spelled out like that, by him, was too much. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "How do I know I can trust you?" Kate grimaced at that, worried he might not understand her concerns.

But he did. "I know I've not given you any reason to believe I'm capable of it, Kate." She wished he'd stop saying her name like that, it really was making it difficult to concentrate. One slip, and she'd be lost. "And I can't promise to get everything right. I've made mistakes in the past, and I'm sure I'll make them in the future. But you have to know that I want to try. With you."

Kate wanted to be convinced. Wanted it desperately. But the fear was still there, and she couldn't fight her way through it. She tried to fix him with a level, open gaze, but it was difficult to look at the open hope on his face. "I'm sorry, Rick. I'm just not ready for this." He made a noise, almost inaudible, and she quickly continued. "I want it. I do, it's just… I can't be hurt again. Not by you." Her eyes were starting to sting. "I know you mean what you say, and I know you'd try, but I need to be sure. And I'm not."

She watched as the air went out of him. He seemed to shrink in his chair, and he dropped his head, trying to hide his poleaxed expression. She could feel tears swimming in her eyes. His left hand lay nervelessly on her desk, and she reached out and took it in a soft grip. He looked up at her, pain warring with surprise at the gesture.

Kate took a deep breath, and leapt. "So convince me."

* * *

**So there it is. Her answer. Not quite the unequivocal 'yes' that people were hoping for, but I feel this is as much as Kate Beckett, at this stage, would dare. And now, hopefully, we'll get to see Castle trying his utmost to make her believe.  
**

**The characterization of Meredith is a little at odds with the woman we saw in Always Buy Retail, but I decided to build on that moment when she's on the phone with Castle, and we see just a little of her softer, more self-aware side. Besides, I didn't want her complicating things too much.  
**

**As usual, please read and review. You guys have been great to me so far, and seeing what people think of my work is extremely rewarding.  
**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**This one was interesting to write, as it seems the show is catching up with my speculation, and I find myself consciously trying to keep it different. Not too much movement here, just attempting to put them in a new, more comfortable place, before moving forward.  
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* * *

**

Rick gaped at her, trying to process the last few minutes and the roiling emotions that her words had brought. He'd gone from hopeful to crushed in the time it took Kate Beckett to speak a couple of dozen words. She'd rejected him, told him he wasn't a safe bet, wasn't good enough. But then, three more words and it all changed. He was struggling to cope with the sudden pleasure that had replaced his misery, and felt he had to be sure he understood her. "Did you just say…"

Her grip on his hand tightened slightly, and she fixed him with earnest, nervous eyes. "You heard what I said, Rick." There was his name again, it sounded so sweet coming from her lips. She'd only ever said it before in anger or mockery.

"You want me to convince you that I'm worth risking your heart over?" She responded with a tight nod, and he felt a grin slowly spread across his face. "I can do that."

Beckett smiled back at him, relief showing on her face. Her grip on his hand loosened, but she didn't let go. Instead, he felt her fingers idly caressing the back of it. His grin widened invitingly, and he watched the colour in rise in her cheeks. A thought occurred to him, and though it was really the last thing he wanted to ask about, he had to know. "What about Demming?"

Her hand stilled, and she looked down at the desk for a moment. "I ended things with him two days ago." He couldn't help but feel smug about that, and it must have shown on his face, because he saw a fire spark in her eyes, and she continued. "Not because of this. I didn't break up with him for you, so don't go thinking I did. But it wasn't fair to him, and I had to tell him the truth."

"Which is?" He couldn't resist, and got the uncomfortable feeling that he was pushing his luck when she narrowed her eyes.

Luckily, at that moment, the interrogation room door burst open. Their hands flew apart and they both turned to stare at the two men exiting with very self satisfied expressions. "I'm telling you, man," Ryan declared, "I thought he was going to cry, the way you took him down in there."

Esposito grinned back at him, and answered, "Yeah, but even better was when he thought you were going to come to his rescue. You make a Hell of a 'Good Cop'."

Beckett cleared her throat, avoiding looking at Rick, and asked, "You get a confession?" At their nods, she smiled. "Is it safe?"

"Safe as houses," Esposito said, still with that insufferable grin. "He's no badass drug dealer. Just sells to his buddies and a few guys he works with. White collars, the lot of them. He came home and found his stash had been pinched, and panicked."

Ryan took over. "Yeah, apparently he hadn't paid his supplier the full whack yet, and couldn't afford to without the sales. So, he asked a few of the shadier people he knew, and they ended up pointing him in our vic's direction."

Beckett finished the story off, guessing the ending. "And when the vic didn't have them, and wouldn't tell him who the thieves were, he lost it, reached for the nearest heavy object and wham." They both nodded again, confirming the story. "Ok, so notify the D.A. Good job, guys."

Rick had been enjoying the interplay between the three of them, but roused himself to offer his own congratulations. Then, he suggested, "So, now this case is done, for us anyway, what say I take you all out for lunch. My treat, and I can tell you all about my trip." Both Ryan and Esposito immediately grinned at him, not even considering passing up a free meal. Beckett stared for a moment, and he thought she was going to decline, but then a smile broke out on her face again, and she stood up.

"Ok then, Castle. But we're going somewhere simple. None of that ridiculous, gourmet stuff that you get so excited about."

* * *

Staring at his computer screen, Rick couldn't help but replay the events of the previous day over and over in his head. He still couldn't quite believe she'd been so open and honest with him. Though he was having a slightly difficult time trying to figure out just what she meant by "convince me". _Not gifts or compliments. She's not going to be swayed by shallow stuff like that_. He knew her well enough to know that. No, the trick wasn't to convince her that he cared, because she was clearly aware of that. What he had to do was make her believe that he could be mature, that he could stop making insensitive comments at inopportune times and, most of all, that he could be a man who wouldn't let her down or hurt her, if she was generous enough to give him her heart.

He'd been up early this morning, and had gone straight to his office, intent on writing. The deadline for his book loomed ever closer, and despite the progress he'd made on his lengthy flights to and from Los Angeles, he was still desperately behind. As luck would have it, today was looking like it might be a good day. The words were flowing, he wasn't second guessing himself after every sentence. Rick smiled to himself, content for the first time in a long while.

He was so engrossed in his work that he didn't notice Alexis until she was stood at his shoulder, peering over it at the computer screen. "Hey, dad. You're writing. Properly." She smiled down at him. "That's great."

"Morning, sweetie." Rick smiled back at her. "Yeah, I'm starting to think I've gotten over the block. I might even get this finished before my hair turns grey." He waited for the inevitable crack about it being too late for that, but it didn't come. He looked at his daughter more closely now, and saw that something was bothering her. "What's wrong, Alexis?"

She shook her head. "Nothing, really. It's just…" She sat down on the corner of his desk, and frowned at her hands. "Have you made a decision yet? About the summer?"

He leaned back, giving her his full attention. She continued, "I know you didn't have too much fun there this week, and you've been disappointed in how they do things out there. I was just wondering, do you still want us to go?"

"Alexis, I really don't know." He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "It's not an easy decision to make, and I thought I'd know my own mind after this last week. But it just seems to have muddled everything up even more."

"Too many variables?" She asked, a crooked smile on her face. _More than you know, _Rick thought, but he wasn't going to say anything about his current situation with Beckett. Not until he had something to actually say.

He still needed to get used to the idea himself, and try to figure out just how far away he was from his goal, and how quickly he might be able to get there. But none of that was anything he should burden a sixteen year old with, even one as mature and intelligent as Alexis. Instead, he just told her, "Look, I was pretty disillusioned with the whole idea after the way those producers acted. Pretending to love every idea I came up with, even the really dumb ones. And I'm wondering whether the movie that is eventually made will be anything at all like the one I want to write, like the book I've already written."

"Yeah, but, that's their job, dad. They're supposed to butter up the people they want something from. How else would they get what they want?"

"I suppose so." He answered, reluctantly. "Anyway, I'm sure Paula will be on my case about it soon enough. What about you? You've clearly been thinking about it."

Alexis smiled sourly, and dropped her eyes from his again. "It would be ok, I guess." He dipped his head to re-establish eye contact, and she added. "But Paige asked me if I'd like to go on holiday with her and her family. They've got a chalet in Switzerland, the Alps. I've never been skiing before."

Rick smiled at her reassuringly. "Alexis, whatever I decide, you can go skiing if you want to. There's no reason you couldn't spend part of the summer there, and part in L.A." She looked doubtful, for some reason. But before he could interrogate her further, his phone rang.

He fished it out of his pocket, and answered, the ringtone already telling him who it was. "Detective Beckett, good morning to you. What a pleasure it is to hear your voice." He kept his greeting light, but Alexis still got that questioning look in her eyes. For her part, Beckett didn't seem to know how to react. For a moment, she was silent, then just said, "We've got another murder."

"I'll be right there."

* * *

Rick didn't bother hailing a taxi, and just walked. The crime scene was only ten blocks from his building. He couldn't miss it when he got close, seeing several police cars cordoning off the entrance to an alley. He spotted Ryan talking to a couple of uniformed officers, and waved. Ryan ushered him over. "Hey, man. What have we got?" Rick asked.

"Looks like a pretty straightforward shooting. Back there." He pointed over his shoulder, and Rick thanked him, heading down the alley.

Beckett, Esposito and Lanie were there, gathered around the body. Rick stopped for a moment, and stared at Beckett, drinking in the lines of her face. She was listening to Esposito as he explained that the body had been found by the owner of the restaurant next to the alley, when he'd been preparing for the fresh meat delivery. Rick was barely listening, just watching her, a dopey smile on his face.

It was Lanie who noticed him first, looking up from where she crouched by the body. "Hey, Castle. You just going to spectate? Girls like a man who's not afraid to get his hands dirty." Beckett had turned to stare at him when Lanie called his name, but at that those words, she suddenly looked sheepish and uncomfortable.

He tried to break the tension. "Well, I just had my nails manicured a couple of days ago. Wouldn't want to ruin them, would I?" Stepping forward, he couldn't help wondering how much Lanie knew. _Has Beckett told her? I thought she'd be more secretive than that. _Looking down at the corpse, he felt a shock run through him. "It's just a kid! He can't be more than eighteen." The boy looked like a typical clean cut jock, right down to the blue and white varsity jacket he was wearing.

"Yeah, but kids get murdered just the same as anyone else." Esposito said, in a resigned voice. Rick nodded, still staring at the body with growing sadness. He'd been lucky, he guessed, in that so few of the murder victims he'd seen had been so young. Just two or three teenagers since he'd started shadowing Beckett. It was always sad, dealing with any murder, but when the victim was someone with their whole life ahead of them, it was so much more difficult to face.

"He was shot?" Rick asked, remembering what Ryan had said.

Beckett spoke for the first time since he'd arrived, her expression studiously blank. "Yeah, three bullets, by the look of it. Too early to guess the calibre." Lanie nodded at that, telling them that she wanted to get the body back to the morgue to do a proper examination. Beckett nodded at this, "Ok, Esposito, coordinate the search here, see if you can find a wallet, driver's license, any sort of ID." He nodded, and headed off to speak to Ryan and the uniforms.

Rick looked down at Lanie, and saw she was busying herself in gathering her equipment together, waiting for the gurney to transport the body. She didn't seem to be paying any attention to them, but still, he decided discretion was the better part of valour. He took hold of Beckett's elbow, and she looked up at him in, startled. He led her a few feet away before he spoke, in a low voice. "Did you talk to Lanie about us?"

Beckett blinked. "What? No, I didn't. Anyway, there isn't an "us" yet." He backed away a half step.

"I know that." He hated how defensive he sounded. "But I just want to be clear on whether you want anyone knowing about our… conversation."

Beckett frowned at him, biting her lower lip in a way he found very distracting. "I hadn't really thought about it, but it would be better if we kept it quiet, for now. At work." She seemed to be studying him, trying to gauge his reaction. "I just don't want people talking, judging me." Then, slightly exasperated, "You know what I mean. But if you want to tell your family, I'm ok with that."

Rick nodded slightly, feeling he should be honest. "My mother already knows. I spoke to her last night. She was pleased that you were going to give me a chance, though she did say it means you're probably crazy."

Beckett smiled at that, and leaned into him, just a little, their heads only inches apart now. "She's right, I must be." She whispered. The sound of someone clearing their throat very deliberately caused her to jump back a full two feet, utterly flustered. She glared at him, as though it was his fault. _Well, it probably was, _he thought, resigned.

Lanie was looking at them, a small smile on her face, her eyes alight with mischief. "If you two have finished canoodling, I have to get back to the morgue with this guy, and I'm sure you have lots of investigating to do."

"Thank you, Lanie." Beckett said, sternly, now refusing to look in Rick's direction at all. "We'll go now." Without another word, she turned on her heels and strode off to the top of the alley. Rick was about to follow when he caught Lanie watching him.

"About time, writer boy." She said, with a broad smirk. He laughed awkwardly and beat a hasty retreat, before Beckett left without him.

He drew level with her and hissed, "See, I told you. She knows." Beckett eyed him with irritation.

"And I told you, there's nothing to know yet."

"Well, with all the whispering in corners and awkward looks, it's kind of hard to tell the difference."

Kate directed a heated smile at him, "Oh believe me, Rick, you'll know the difference." Her laugh sent a spike of lust right through him. He faltered for a moment, watching her, and was sure there was a bit more sway in her walk than usual. Grinning in appreciation, he trotted to catch up.

* * *

Kate watched as Castle struggled with the espresso machine. _He bought the thing, and he uses it several times a day, _she thought, thoroughly amused at his travails. _You'd think he'd know how to work it better than that._

She smiled to herself, thinking that she could get used to watching him performing such domestic activities.

"You're staring." He said, without looking around.

_How did he know?_ _Honestly, he does have a way of being inconveniently perceptive._ "Just watching you attempt to make a simple cup of coffee, Castle." He glanced back over his shoulder, with a quick smile that clearly told her he wasn't buying it. She tried to change the subject. "So, you never did tell me, how was L.A?"

He turned, handing a freshly brewed coffee to her, and sipping his own, seemingly considering his response. "It wasn't quite what I expected," He told her, with candour that was unusual for him. "Most of the people I talked to were more interested in keeping me happy than in actually discussing what they wanted to do."

He frowned to himself, and she felt for him, seeing his disappointment. "I know I could end up with my name on a movie poster, but whether that movie will be anything like the book I wrote, I don't know."

_He might not want to go back._ She couldn't help but feel a little pleasure at that, closely followed at guilt that his disappointment could make her happy.

"I should tell you, in the interests of full disclosure," He paused, and she waited, wondering where this was going. "I ran into Meredith whilst I was there."

Kate stared at him, feeling a hurt she really had no right to, yet. "Your ex-wife." She stated, flatly. _He couldn't go four damn days without…_

Castle obviously saw her rising anger, and quickly told her, "Nothing happened! Really, I didn't do anything with her." Kate eyed him suspiciously, looking for any hint that he was lying. "All we did was talk. It was actually nice, to just talk to her. Usually other things get in the way." He laughed, light and amused, and Kate realised he was telling the truth.

The relief that flowed through her was greater than she had any right to. "Wow, Castle, I'm impressed." He looked at her, questioningly, and she added, "You passed on 'amazing crazy person sex'." He laughed again, louder, the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way she enjoyed.

"Oh, it wasn't that hard. Turns out all I had to do was drink until I passed out."

Kate couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up. "Well, that's certainly one way out of a difficult situation." They settled into a comfortable silence, just looking at each other. Kate felt a flush of pleasure, realizing that this journey they were going to embark on together might be a lot of fun.

"So, how's Alexis?" She asked, as a way to distract herself from that thought. "Did she miss you whilst you were gone?"

Castle grinned at her. "Of course she did. Neither of us are used to spending more than twenty four hours apart, so on the odd occasions it does happen, it's not easy." This was a Richard Castle that Kate had always liked a lot, and she also liked the warmth that spread through her whenever she saw him behaving as a father. "Oh, and while we're talking about her, I haven't said anything to Alexis yet. About this. I'd like to keep it quiet for a while, until we know where we stand."

Kate nodded mutely. He continued, "She really respects you, Kate. I don't want her to start thinking you might become a part of her life unless…"

"Unless I do become part of it. It's ok, I understand. This is a weird situation for me too." She smiled again, "And who knows how long it might take you to prove you're a grown man."

Castle leered at her, and spoke in a low voice. "I can prove that to you right now, if you like." Then he smiled, and Kate smiled back. His jokes weren't nearly so discomfiting when he made it clear they were jokes.

"Come on, we can't stand here chatting all day. Work to be done." Kate strolled out of the break room, and spotted Ryan and Esposito just entering the bullpen. "Hey guys, anything to report?"

Esposito brandished a wallet, calling across the office, "Vic's name is Jason Williams. Driver's license says he's seventeen. No cash, but we got a bank card and a credit card."

Castle stepped up behind her, "A credit card at seventeen? Must come from a pretty well off family." Kate nodded in agreement.

"Ok, you guys call the bank, see if you can get primary cardholder details. I'll head downstairs and see if Lanie has anything yet."

Castle still stood at her shoulder. "What should I do?"

Kate grinned at him. "You can stay here and come up with a story that'll keep us entertained… About the case." She walked away from him, and decided to tease him again, rolling her hips just a bit as she went. She could feel his eyes on her all the way to the elevator.

* * *

**As always, please read and review.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **This one's nice and fluffy, for those of you suffering from finale hangover. A bit shorter than the last few, but that just means I'll get the next chapter done all the sooner.

I tried to get the facts about New York geography, schools and ballistics as close as possible, but I'm no expert on any of them, so if there are any errors, blame my ignorance.

This is obviously now completely AU, starting as it does at the end of 2x23. I may crib a few bits and pieces from the finale, but as far as this story is concerned, none of that happened.

Oh, and watch out for the tiny little West Wing reference. I paraphrased one of Charlie's lines.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Rick tried to do what he was told, he really did, and within fifteen minutes of Beckett going down to talk to Lanie, he'd come up with a few theories as to why Jason Williams had been murdered. But truthfully, he was uncomfortable with what he was doing. This kid had only been a year older than Alexis, still in high school. It hit him far too close to home.

So instead, he decided to bother Ryan and Esposito. They, on the other hand, were doing as they'd been told. Ryan was already on hold with the vic's bank, and Esposito was checking New York high schools, trying to find one that had the same varsity jacket as the vic. Unfortunately, navy and white were not uncommon colours.

"Hey, guys, what's going on?" Rick could see they were busy, but that was no reason not to wind them up.

They both swivelled in their seats to look at him, tolerantly. "Nothing new is going on since the last time you spoke to us, Castle." Esposito said, patiently. "We are doing our jobs. What are you doing?"

"Whatever it is, it's certainly not what your girlfriend told you to do." Ryan butted in, an obnoxiously smug smile plastered onto his face.

Rick stared. "Girlfriend? What are you guys talking about? I don't have a girlfriend."

"Really?" Ryan drew the word out gleefully. "Then how come you were holding hands with Beckett yesterday?" Esposito was smirking now as well.

Castle spluttered, desperately trying to think of an answer that wouldn't sound absurd. "What do you mean, holding hands?" Denial would work, he decided.

Esposito looked close to outright laughter now, and he leaned forward. "Castle, you seem to forget that the interrogation room has a big old window in it." He pointed, "Right there, see?"

"Yep. Espo was doing his totally awesome 'bad cop' walk, freaking the dude out, and what does he see through the window?" Ryan was just as amused. "Why, there's Richard Castle and Kate Beckett, sitting at her desk, gazing longingly into each others' eyes. And holding hands."

"Ok, look, you guys have totally got the wrong idea. I was just joking around. You know, like I do." He glanced between the two, willing them to buy his excuse. "Flirting with her. I was… I was pretending to read her fortune. It's something my mother showed me how to do. Just an old carnival trick." _That's weak, Ricky. Really weak. Aren't you supposed to be a successful writer?_

Both men looked at him in frank disbelief. He continued. "Look, whatever you guys think is going on, it isn't. And if Beckett hears you talking like this, she'll kill the pair of you." He pointed a warning finger at them, and started to back away, before they ferreted the truth out of him.

"Oh, don't worry, Castle. Neither of us is stupid." Esposito paused, and glanced at Ryan, "Well, I'm not anyway." He ignored Ryan's outraged glare. "And there's no way she's going to hear a word of this."

"Unless you blab. You know, when you're struggling to get out from under her thumb." Ryan took a big gulp of coffee, grinning from behind the safety of his mug.

Rick glared at them, but was unable to come up with anything else that might convince them nothing was going on. He sufficed for just repeating, "I was just joking around." He retreated to the murder board, ignoring the two sets of eyes boring into the back of his head. _Oh, Kate's going to be pissed. How do I stop her from blaming me?_ Now that was a worthy use for his mastery of criminal psychology.

* * *

Kate strode down the corridor to the morgue with a huge smile on her face. She couldn't recall the last time she'd been in such a good mood, for so little a reason. It all stemmed from Castle, and the easiness with which they'd fallen into this new pattern already. Even after their talk yesterday, she'd expected things to be awkward and strange, and she'd told Castle as much. But, so far, it really wasn't as bad as she'd feared. He seemed to have intuitively understood what she meant about convincing her, and though she only had an hour or two of experience of it, he was doing a good job, so far.

She was in no hurry, whatsoever, to jump into anything physical with him, that could wait. And the anticipation of it would be a delight in itself. Until then, she could enjoy teasing him, as she had today. He was such an easy mark. Laughing quietly to herself, she entered Dr Parish's domain, and looked around for her friend.

Lanie was busily doing whatever it was she did to the corpse of Jason Williams. Kate didn't need to know the details, but it involved a pair of tweezers and a scalpel. She looked up when Kate walked in, and waved a greeting. "Hey. You flying solo, Kate?"

Kate frowned, a little confused by the question. "What do you mean? Castle? He's upstairs, hopefully using his one talent. Coming up with plausible theories for murder."

Lanie cocked an eyebrow at that. "His only talent? It looks to me like he might have a few more hidden away. How many have you found, so far?"

Kate was scandalized by the insinuation in Lanie's voice, "Lanie! What the Hell are you talking about? How would I know anything about Castle's 'talents'? We're just friends."

"Mm Hmm, that's exactly what I thought when I saw him staring dreamily at you in the alley this morning. I thought, 'that's just how friends look at each other.'" She sniggered. "And when you two stood together, whispering little nothings whilst gazing into each others' eyes. Again, friends." She quirked an eyebrow, and Kate realized it was useless to deny it, so all she could do was set Lanie straight.

"Lanie, I swear, there's nothing going on. Yet." Her face flushed crimson at her friend's delighted look. "He asked me if I'd go on a date. At least, I think that's what it was." She frowned. "It was all a bit vague."

"So you said yes?" Lanie prompted, all interest in the corpse forgotten.

"No. I told him I wasn't ready." Kate started, and quickly continued before Lanie could voice the protests she could see forming on her lips. "I said he had to convince me he was worth it, that he was ready."

Kate glared defiantly at her friend, daring her to find fault with her actions. "Ok." Lanie said, slowly, clearly absorbing what she'd just heard. "So, not only have you said you want him, now you've finally admitted you want to _be with_ writer boy?" The smugness was back, and Kate threw her hands up, exasperated.

"Fine! I want him. I want to be with him. Happy now? You were right, as usual." She leaned against a filing cabinet, trying to keep the glare on her face, but it was difficult. Saying those words openly for the first time had sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine. It was thrilling to be so honest, even if it was only with her best friend.

"So, nothing's happened, so far?"

"No, nothing. I've not even kissed him." Lanie's inquisitive look didn't waver. "Oh God, Lanie, nothing's happened! We… we held hands. Yesterday. That's it." _Christ, this is like being in junior high all over again._

"You held hands? That is adorable!" Lanie's broad smile got to her, and Kate felt her own lips tugging up into a happy grin. She wasn't going to deny it, he had looked adorable, sitting there grinning like an idiot.

"Ok, now that's out of the way, can you please tell me if you found anything yet?" She gestured at the body, and Lanie shook herself, as though only just recalling that she had a job to do.

"Right, yeah. Well, cause of death is no mystery. Gunshots to the chest. Three, no exit wounds. Too small to be .38s, too big to be .22s. We'll know more about the weapon when we fish the bullets out, but my guess is that it was a 7.62mm."

Kate pondered that. "He was shot with a rifle?" That was surprising, she'd actually only ever had a couple of cases where murderers had used anything larger than a shotgun.

"I'm no gun expert, but I don't think so. There were traces of powder residue on his clothes, which means close range. If it had been a rifle, it would have gone straight through." Kate nodded.

"Ok, so we're looking for a handgun that fires 7.62mm bullets. Shouldn't be too hard to narrow down. Hopefully ballistics will give us more to go on." She peered down at the cleaned up wounds. "Anything else?"

"Not yet." Lanie answered, sardonically. "You didn't exactly give me a whole lot of time. But I guess you just couldn't wait to come down here and gush like a schoolgirl over your new boyfriend."

"Shut up." Kate told her, without heat. Then she paused, and eyed her friend with a slight smile. "So, 'staring dreamily'?" Lanie laughed and nodded, and Kate answered the laugh with a heartfelt grin, the happiness back in full force. _This is going to be fun. _If she could produce the reaction Lanie claimed by not doing anything, just imagine what she could reduce him to if she really tried. She felt the urge to giggle as the thought came again, _He's such an easy mark._

_

* * *

_

Rick looked up as Ryan leapt from his seat and hurried down the office to the murder board. "We got a name. Vic's father, David Williams. Got an address, too." He quickly scribbled the new information onto the sparsely populated board.

Rick studied the address. "Long Island? He is loaded, then." Ryan nodded absently, waving Esposito over from the break room.

"Hey, Espo, check it. We've got an address for the kid's family." Esposito strode over, and quickly perused the information.

"Rich kid. That should narrow down the school possibilities. Beckett still downstairs?" He looked straight at Rick as he asked it, and all he could do was nod, uncomfortable about being held responsible for knowing her whereabouts. "Ok, well I guess we wait for her to get back. She'll want to tell the family herself."

They all sat back in contemplation for a moment. None of them relishing the task that they knew Kate Beckett would carry out with staggering empathy. It was one of the things that had really blown Rick away when he first started getting to know her. Here was this reserved, controlled, driven woman who was capable of showing so much compassion and understanding to newly grieving families. It had been a shock the first time he saw, but each time after that, he just stood mesmerized, watching her. Still, he didn't envy her.

"So, you think a rich kid like this probably goes to a private school, right?" Esposito broke the silence, and the other two nodded in agreement. Rick thought about it for a moment.

_The colours… navy and white. _Then it hit him. "Lancaster Prep! That's where he went." Esposito gave him a thumbs up and hurried over to his desk, to get the phone number for the school. Rick glanced at Ryan, who was still perusing the murder board. "We'll get this guy in no time."

Ryan nodded, confidently. "Hell yes, we will."

Beckett's voice sounded from behind them. "What have we got, so far?" Rick turned around, and drank her in. Just looking at her was enough to bring a smile to his face, but then he recalled Ryan and Esposito's teasing, and the smile curdled. Beckett eyed him questioningly, and, out of the corner of his eye, he caught Ryan smirking. "Guys? Some time today would be nice."

"Right, yeah." Rick gave a start. "Well, we've got his parents' address, and we reckon we've got the school."

"Good." She answered. "Because I've got time of death. Somewhere between 6 and 8 this morning. He was probably on his way to school. Shot at close range, shallow angle, so it's likely that he was standing facing his killer."

_Killed on the way to school._ Castle felt a shiver run through him. "This kid was from a rich family, he went to a very expensive private school. Why would someone kill him?"

Beckett gave him a dry look. "Isn't that what you're here for, Castle? To come up with a story?" Ryan's expression clearly indicated that he was sure that wasn't all Rick was there for, but as long as he didn't say anything, Rick knew Beckett wouldn't shoot either of them.

"Erm, sure, I guess. Well what do most kids end up shot in the street for? Drugs. So let' say this guy was buying drugs, maybe he was even selling them to friends for kicks. We've seen that before. He pisses off his dealer. Doesn't pay him, or shorts him on the profit. The dealer loses his temper, as drug dealers are wont to do. He knows where the kid lives, knows where he goes to school and what time he'll be going. So he waits somewhere on the route. Maybe he only meant to scare him into paying, but maybe the kid mouths off, or maybe he doesn't have the money, and the dealer is through waiting. He has a gun, they're arguing in the alley way. No one's around. The restaurants and bars around there don't open until later, and there's not much else in the vicinity. The murderer fires three rounds, close range, and walks away as if nothing's happened." He finished, and looked up to see Beckett watching him appreciatively, a small smile on her face. Ryan was nodding vigorously.

"Wow, Castle, I'm impressed." Beckett said. "No assassins, mobsters or secret agents. Just good old fashioned cop talk. You must be learning."

"Well, when you work with the best…" He told her, and felt a little thrill at the surprised, pleased look she shot back at him. He grinned at her. "So, you want to talk to the family first, right? She nodded. "Well, they must have an address in the city, because there's no way that kid commuted from Long Island to Manhattan every day for school."

Esposito returned, just as he finished saying that, and grinned at them. "Have no fear, I just spoke to the school. They have an apartment in Manhattan." He held the address out to Beckett, who took it with a smile.

"Come on, Castle." She didn't even glance at him to see if he was going to follow. Of course, he did follow her, ignoring the insolent looks on the faces of Ryan and Esposito. And he definitely ignored Ryan's mime of cracking a whip.

* * *

Kate sat, watching the two people in front of her as they struggled to understand what she was telling them. Their son was dead. This was the one part of her job that she hated more than any other, but the one part she knew was so vitally important to get right. They seemed lost for words, which was certainly understandable. Unfortunately, Kate knew she had to ask some questions now, before the shock wore off and the real grief hit them.

"Was your son involved in anything that worried you? Anything that might get him into trouble?" They shook their heads, mutely, and she continued. "What about his friends, were there any you didn't like?" Again, the head shakes.

Mr. Williams spoke, his voice quavering. "Detective, our son was the starting Point Guard for the school basketball team. Most of his time was spent either studying or training." He paused for a moment, gathering himself. "He was going to go to Duke, they'd already offered a full scholarship."

Kate felt Castle tense beside her, as though he was going to speak, and she put her hand out to warn him not to. She rested it on his knee, and continued speaking to Mr. Williams. It was clear his wife was not going to contribute anything. She looked almost catatonic. "So, no trouble at school?"

Suddenly, Mr. Williams looked uncomfortable, and glanced at his wife. Kate caught the look, and her interest spiked. "Mr. Williams?" She prompted, and he sighed.

"There was something, a few months ago. A girl at Jason's school, a cheerleader. She accused Jason of… of assaulting her." Kate leaned back slightly. _Now this is something to go on. _Castle went very still next to her, and she could feel his tension through the hand still resting innocuously on his knee. She wanted to look at him, to show him she understood his unease, but she didn't take her eyes off Mr. Williams, settling instead for squeezing Castle's knee, just a little.

Mr. Williams stumbled over the words in his haste to get them out. "It was ridiculous. There was no proof, no evidence that he'd done anything, and he wouldn't do anything. The charges were dropped, and the police apologized." He laughed, short and bitter, no trace of amusement. "We were scared it might jeopardize his scholarship. Oh, we could afford college, of course we could, but he wanted to play basketball. More than anything." Kate saw his composure crumbling, and decided she would be pushing her look to go any further, and besides, they'd given her plenty to go on.

"Ok. Thank you Mr. Williams, Mrs. Williams. That will be all for now, you've been very helpful." She nodded her thanks, and stood, still not looking at Castle.

* * *

"Are you ok?" Kate asked, as soon as they were safely back in the car. She studied him closely.

"Yeah. Fine, why wouldn't I be?" He sounded distant, and Kate decided they needed to talk before they set off.

"Rick, you're not that good an actor." She advised him, reaching over and taking his hand. "And I'm a cop, I can read people. You were thinking about Alexis, in there, weren't you?"

He looked at her now, a direct, blunt gaze that she usually found enjoyable, but now she could see the fear in his eyes. She tightened her grip. "Yes. I've been thinking about her all day. When I saw that kid… He's just a year older than her. And now… a girl raped in high school? Alexis goes to a school just like that one, she walks past people like Jason Williams every day in the corridors. If it could happen to them…" He shuddered.

"No, stop. We don't even know what did happen yet. This wasn't an act of random violence, I'm sure of it. This boy was killed for a reason, and you know that your daughter would never be in that sort of situation."

He was still looking at her. "Yeah, but what about… the other thing." He couldn't bring himself to say it, and she didn't really know how to assuage his fears. It was true, that could happen so suddenly, without warning and without reason.

"Rick, you've done everything you can to ensure she's safe. She's smart, strong, and she knows exactly what to do in an emergency. That's all you can hope for." A thought struck her, and she was delighted by the practicality of the idea. "Has she ever taken any self defence classes?"

Rick looked miserable. "Fencing."

"Yeah, well, unless someone pulls an Épée on her, that's not much good. We run a programme at the precinct, specifically for women. Why don't you check it out?"

His gloomy look brightened. "That's a great idea, Kate. I'll have her take a look. As long as you don't teach her how to kick my ass."

She smiled at him. "Rick, I've seen you fight. She probably already could kick your ass." He laughed, and she felt inordinately pleased. She'd said the right thing, lifted his spirits. It felt good.

Putting the car into gear, she pulled away from the apartment building. Castle felt the need to ask, "By the way, Kate, do you teach any of these classes?"

She glanced at him. "Yeah, once a week. Why?"

He was grinning away now, like a schoolboy. "Oh, just that I might have to come up and watch. The chance to see you all sweaty, grappling with other women." He wriggled in pleasure.

Kate pulled a face at him. "Sure, Castle, why not?" She let it hang there for a moment, watching his surprise and glee, before adding, "We could always use another volunteer to demonstrate the moves on."

* * *

**As always, please read and review. **

**ETA: I've changed the name of the school, as I'm going to say nasty things about them in the next chapter, and don't want anyone mistaking it for a real establishment.  
**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **So this has taken a little longer than I thought. I got a bit sidetracked, with one thing or another. Anyway, this is perhaps less shippy than the last couple of chapters, as I wanted to move the case forward a bit. As will start to become clear in this chapter, this case is going to hit a bit close to home for Castle, and we'll get to see how he reacts to that, and how Beckett deals with him.

The idea of self defence classes wasn't something I planned. A happy accident that now allows me to write the scene between Kate and Alexis in this chapter. It's a relationship I'd really like the show to develop, and as you'll see, a good way of feeding Kate more information about Rick. The sort he'd be reluctant to share himself. I do wonder though, whether she's being quite as careless as she seems, giving Kate all that info.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

"Hey, Beckett." Kate looked up at the voice, pleasantly surprised. Castle was strolling over to her desk, looking rather dapper in his dark grey suit and burgundy shirt. She'd been noticing his physical appearance more and more since their conversation a few days ago, and was, as usual, impressed with what she saw. _He is such a good looking man, _she thought, wistfully. Then, realising she'd been too busy staring to respond to his greeting, she looked away quickly.

"Hi, Castle. I thought you were going to be busy this morning. That meeting with your agent?" He was smiling broadly, clearly pleased to have caught her staring, and she felt heat rush to her cheeks. Kate fixed him with an implacable glare, just daring him to bring attention to it.

He got the message, and the grin subsided to a friendly smile. "I did. She was hounding me about the book, again. Luckily, I was able to show her the progress I've made recently, and she backed off." He sat down in his usual chair, and held out one of the takeaway cups he was carrying. Kate took it with a grateful nod, unable to resist smiling quietly to herself. This morning ritual had taken on new meaning for her of late. Ever since Castle had neglected to bring her coffee that one time, she'd come to appreciate it as one of the little things he did to show how much he cared. She liked it.

Still, him talking about his work brought up another concern she had. He'd not mentioned it, but she knew it had to have been discussed at the meeting, and she had to know. "And what about the screenplay?" She tried to sound casual, careless. "Any confirmation on that, yet?"

He hesitated, for the briefest moment. If she'd not been watching him so intently, she would have missed it, and it set her on edge. "She asked about it, I told her I still hadn't made up my mind." He shrugged, as though it was of no importance. "It's not like I could go until I finish this book, anyway."

Kate nodded, hoping she was able to match his insouciant attitude, hoping that he wouldn't see how the prospect of him leaving upset her. That was the one thing they really hadn't talked about, and she didn't quite know how to broach the subject. Their new understanding was a delicate, fragile thing, and she didn't want to risk shattering it by making anything that could be construed as a demand. Oh, she knew that she held the upper hand in whatever was growing between them, and Castle seemed happy enough for it to stay that way. But telling him not to leave, not to pursue advancement in his career was something a girlfriend might do, and she certainly wasn't his girlfriend. Not yet, and maybe not ever. She didn't have the right to ask him to stay.

She'd been turning these thoughts over and over in her head all morning, but couldn't find a way out of the predicament. All she could do was wait for him to decide, and hope…

"Earth to Kate. Hello, anyone home?" Castle's voice broke into her thoughts, and she blinked, clearing her head, before fixing an irritated glare on him. He leaned back, relaxing. "Oh, that's better. You are still in there after all."

Kate pulled a face at him, and he grinned. "Are you actually here for a reason, Castle? Or just to annoy me?"

"Oh, Kate. Annoying you is enough of a reason for any man, believe me." She felt her cheeks heating again, as he continued, "But do I really need a specific reason to be here? We do have an active case after all."

"In that case, stow the flirting." Kate told him, standing and striding towards the elevator. She didn't even have to glance back to know Castle was following her. "Esposito's checking into the rape allegations that the vic's parents told us about. What we need to do is go down to the school."

"You think it might have been a classmate? Teacher?"

Kate looked at him, wryly, "No, probably not. But we still need to talk to them. I thought you knew how this worked, by now." She frowned slightly. He was still off his game, and she guessed it must be due to the concerns he voiced yesterday, about Alexis. _He'd better sort himself out soon. I'm going to need him. For the case, of course._

As if he was reading her mind, he suddenly voiced her concerns for her. "Yeah, listen, Kate. What you were saying yesterday, about those self defence classes. I'm sure Alexis would love to give them a go."

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped in. "Have you actually asked her, Castle?" Kate asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"Well, no. Not specifically, no, but she'll see the good sense of it. And she loves learning new things. When's your next class?"

"Tonight, actually. 7pm. But if that's not convenient, there are two others every week."

"And do you teach those?" His voice was suddenly louder in her ear, and she turned to find him stood just inches away, at her shoulder. He grinned disarmingly, and she felt a shiver of pleasure, and decided not to move away.

"No, just this one." Her voice was remarkably steady, she thought.

"Well, if Alexis is going to learn self defence, I want it to be from you. There can't be anyone better." She twisted her neck to check for any sarcasm, but met his earnest, most sincere gaze. She was touched, and tried not to let it show. Still, he was ever so close. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck. She shivered again.

For a brief moment, she thought she was going to do something foolish and impulsive. Luckily though, or perhaps unluckily, the elevator reached the parking garage before she could act on her urge. She stepped out of the elevator hurriedly, and refused to look at Castle as they made their way to her car.

* * *

Lancaster Prep School was as stuffy and pompous as Rick had imagined. He had plenty of experience of this sort of establishment, and he cared for them now as little as he had when he was a schoolboy himself. He supposed that the school he paid a great deal of money to for Alexis' education was not much different, either. So they offered the best schooling money could buy, that didn't mean he had to like them.

Right now, the overbearing fellow that Beckett was currently talking to summed up all his reservations in one, self-important little man. Rick shook himself, and made an effort to listen.

"…of course, we are shocked and saddened to learn of what happened to Master Williams. He was one of our most promising scholar athletes, and had a very bright future ahead of him." The man's voice had that annoying, droning quality that made him a natural at obfuscating those who wanted to pry into the byzantine inner workings of the place.

Beckett clearly thought the same thing. "Yes, Mr. Osbourne, I'm sorry to have brought you such sad news, but I do need to ask some questions. About Jason." She didn't even wait for the man's nod before continuing. "Was he a good student?"

"Oh, yes. Very good. Not a straight-A student, but of course he did devote a lot of his time to his athletic pursuits."

This caught Rick's attention. "You mean he was given an easy time, being a star basketball player?"

"No, Mr. Castle, certainly not." Osbourne sounded mildly scandalized. "He was expected to work just as hard at his academic work as on the basketball court. And I don't believe any teachers ever had any complaints about his conduct. His grades were more than satisfactory, and there was no need to push him harder, as he already had a place secured at a prestigious college."

Rick flicked a glance at Beckett, and saw that she was as dubious as him about that. _Yeah, _he thought, _we both know this kid was probably given free reign as long as he performed on the court._ Beckett changed the subject, though. "Did you notice any changes in his behaviour of late? Skipping classes, acting out?"

"Not at all, detective. His performance was much the same as it always has been."

"And what about the allegations?" Beckett asked casually, though Rick thought she probably knew she wouldn't catch this guy unawares.

"I presume you mean that… distasteful business that occurred a few months ago. Jason was found to have done no wrong."

"That's not quite right, is it, Mr. Osbourne?" Rick couldn't resist. "No charges were filed, that doesn't mean he was absolved."

The smile he received at that comment was as frosty as he'd expected. "Semantics, Mr. Castle. The fact is, the girl in question was… unreliable, and the police investigating could find no evidence of wrongdoing, other than her testimony."

"Was she a student at the school?" Beckett asked.

"Yes, she was. But no longer. She left us two months ago."

"Left?"

"Ah, I believe her lies made things very… uncomfortable for her, and her family decided she would be better served attending another school."

"Uncomfortable. Right. And I'm sure you did all you could to stop that from happening." Rick blinked, surprised at the open hostility in Beckett's voice.

Osbourne took it in stride, though. "Of course, detective. We strive to provide a wholesome, enriching and welcoming environment for all our students."

Beckett looked like she was going to say something else scathing, so Rick jumped in as smoothly as he could. "What was the girl's name, Mr. Osbourne?"

The man made a show of thinking for a couple of seconds, though Rick had the distinct impression he could have reeled off the name of every student in the school at a moment's notice. "Rebecca Brooks, I believe. Yes, her father is Winston Brooks, owner of Brooks Hadley Construction." Osbourne frowned to himself, briefly.

"I take it he wasn't best pleased about everything that happened?" Rick said, allowing just a touch of sarcasm into his voice.

Again, Osbourne didn't register. "You would have to ask him, Mr. Castle. I do not claim to know the inner workings of any mind but my own."

Rick could feel Beckett stewing next to him, and thought they might need to make an exit soon before she said something she'd regret. He had a good inking of what was bothering her so much. This man clearly didn't have one iota of concern for the girl who might have been assaulted, and though that wasn't the crime they were investigating, it wasn't something Beckett could brush off, any easier than he could. "Ok, then." He looked pointedly at Beckett, "Is there anything else we need at the moment."

She started slightly, and the glare she'd been directing at Osbourne dissipated a little. "Erm, no, nothing else. Oh, but we will need the names of Jason's friends. We're going to need to talk to them."

Osbourne smiled obsequiously, nodding, and Rick felt a sneer forming on his own face. _Glad to be getting rid of us, _he thought, acidly.

"I shall have a list drawn up for you post haste, detective. Would it be convenient to email it to you? I wouldn't want to take up any more of your time."

Rick stood, quickly, and looked pointedly again at Beckett. _Let's just get out of here, _he willed her to catch his thought. She seemed to be in agreement as she told Osbourne an email would be fine, and relayed her department address, then turned on her heel and left without another word. Rick nodded briefly at Osbourne, and followed her.

He had to trot a little to catch up with her, and didn't have time to admire the way her long legs and gorgeous posture carried her away from the office so quickly. As he drew alongside her, she directed a quick look at him, and shivered visibly. "I think I need a shower after talking to him." She said, acerbically. "Vile man."

Rick nodded vehemently in agreement. "He's good at his job, though." He said, reluctantly. "Gave nothing away. That's what his bosses pay him for."

"Yeah." Beckett sounded just as reluctant to admit it as Rick was. "I imagine we'll get that list through pretty quickly, and then they'll clam up completely. Nothing to do with them, at all."

There was little he could say to that, so Rick lapsed into silence as they walked back to the car. Beckett unlocked the doors with a quick press of her key ring, and Rick hurried ahead to open the driver door. He held it and beckoned her into the vehicle, ignoring the way she squinted suspiciously at him. "Thank you, Castle." She sounded doubtful, trying to figure out what his angle was. "You know that holding doors for me isn't going to charm my pants off, don't you?"

He couldn't help grinning about the image she presented, and his grin widened further when her faced suddenly flooded crimson. _Didn't quite think that statement through, did you, Katie?_ He took pity, though. "Of course not, detective. But that doesn't mean I can't do it anyway."

She got into the car without further comment, and immediately reached over to open the passenger door. "Turnabout is fair play, Castle." She told him with a smirk when he sheepishly clambered in. "I'm not some porcelain doll. Don't treat me like one."

"Noted." He managed to resist the temptation to add the words he was thinking. _You like it rough, then? No. That wouldn't go down well._

A thought occurred to him as they were driving away. "You didn't ask Mr. Slimy for any details for the Brooks family."

"Don't have to, Castle. Like I said, Esposito and Ryan are digging out the arrest report for the vic." She shot him a quick, pitying look. "Do try to keep up. I hate slow-witted men."

"Good to know. I'll be sure to keep you on your toes from now on." He raised an eyebrow suggestively, and she smiled. _I'm getting better at that_. Then, their earlier conversation came back to him. "Oh, and you said 7pm, right? For the self defence class?"

Beckett looked blank for a moment. "Oh yeah, right. Alexis will be more than welcome." But then she fixed him with another stern gaze. "Providing she _wants_ to be, of course. She won't learn if she's there against her will."

"Please. Alexis has never been reluctant to learn anything. She'll love the idea." At least, he thought she would.

* * *

Esposito and Ryan had indeed been tracking down the arrest report for Jason Williams. They practically waved it in Kate's face as soon as she walked into the bullpen.

"Check this out, Beckett." Esposito was urgent, but not eager, to update her. "Jason Williams. It wasn't just sexual assault she accused him of. Full blown rape."

She frowned at the file. "Ok. Was there any proof?"

"No, just her word against his. He was the starting point guard, she was a quiet, moderately popular girl." Ryan looked upset. More upset than she'd expect. "Guess who they believed?"

Kate tried to remain objective. "Well, that happens a lot in these cases. Physical evidence can be explained as consensual, then it's all down to her word against his."

Ryan nodded grimly. "Yeah. But I decided to check her name in the database, and this came up." He handed her a printout.

Kate scanned it quickly, and felt her stomach churn. She handed the paper to Castle, and waited.

After a moment, he went white, and looked up at Ryan, eyes wide. "She killed herself?"

"Yeah. About a month ago. Overdosed on sleeping pills." Ryan confirmed.

Kate watched Castle as his eyes flickered over the paper again, as though looking for a punch line, or a disclaimer. Her heart went out to him, and she reached up to squeeze his arm in comfort.

"That's not all." Esposito said, watching Castle warily. He turned to Kate. "The arresting officer said Williams was acting erratically, so they tested him. Positive for cocaine."

She stared at this. "So he was using drugs. Well that reinforces your theory, Castle. About the drug dealer." She looked back at him, and saw he was still glaring at the paper, gritting his teeth. "Castle. Rick? Are you ok?"

He looked up, and visibly struggled for a moment, before saying, "Fine. Yeah, fine." He tried to laugh, but it came out strangled. "Guess we know now that the vic was a rapist."

Ryan agreed. "Girl must have been through some trauma to commit suicide."

"We don't know the back story." Kate cautioned. "She could have a history of depression, there could have been other factors." She fixed Ryan with a firm look. "Find out." He nodded, and immediately headed for his desk. "Esposito, you got an address for her family?"

"Yeah. They live out in Westchester. Again, rich family, apartment in Manhattan, but according to the suicide report, they moved out there pretty much permanently after… what happened. Guess they wanted to give their daughter a fresh start."

"Well it didn't do much good, did it?" Castle said, sharply. But his anger wasn't directed at Esposito, and he immediately looked apologetic. "Sorry, Espo."

"No worries, bro. I understand." Esposito looked back at Kate. "I'm gonna talk to the cops who investigated the rape. See what they have to say for themselves." She nodded, glad that he was prepared to take that on. Questioning fellow officers was never easy.

He stalked off to the elevator, file in hand. Clearly he was intent on starting right now. That left Kate alone with Castle. "You ok?" She asked, watching him closely. He nodded tightly, and she stroked his arm again, briefly. "Look, I was going to go and talk to the Brooks today, but I don't feel like driving all the way out to Westchester. We'll do that tomorrow." He still didn't say anything. "You don't have to come." She added.

"No. I'll come." He was struggling for control, and she wanted to hug him, but that would be a step she wasn't ready for yet, even as an attempt to comfort.

"Right, well I guess all we can do now is wait for that list of the vic's friends. Seems like we're going to have a lot to ask them. Starting with where he got his drugs."

As it turned out, Osbourne didn't send the list through until after 4pm, so they were both at something of a loose end. They were still waiting for ballistics to get back to them on the gun used, and Lanie hadn't come up with anything unusual. Though she had been able to confirm that the vic still had traces of cocaine in his system.

Castle disappeared for a while, and Kate was just getting worried when he strolled back into the bullpen. "Hey. Where have you been? I was about to send out a search party."

He smiled. "Sorry, I was just making a few phone calls. Alexis thinks self defence is a great idea, actually. She said she'd love to learn from you."

Kate frowned at that. "Those were her words, were they?"

"You don't know her well enough, Kate. She loves learning anything new. And she's usually a natural at whatever she does." His pride at Alexis shone through in his smile, and warmed Kate's heart.

"Well, great. I look forward to teaching her all I can."

"Start with that ear twist you do. That hurts like Hell." He was smirking again.

"Oh, Ricky," She simpered. "That only works on weaklings with no pain threshold."

He looked indignant. "Hey, I have great tolerance to pain. In the right… controlled… circumstances." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Kate rolled her eyes.

"Whatever you say, Rick. Don't forget, I was there when you were going all cross eyed over Lady Irena. You are not as bad as you pretend to be."

"Oh, you'll be shocked at how bad I can be, Kate." His voice hit a lower register as he leaned in, lips curving invitingly. There was no one else in the bullpen, so she decided to meet him head on.

"Really? And you're going to show me, are you?" She stepped closer to him, leaning in to brush her lips against his earlobe, and felt him tense up. "That sounds just wonderful, Rick." She whispered huskily. "But you're nowhere near convincing me yet." With that, she brushed past him and saw him stumble slightly against the desk. She walked off without a backward glance, biting her lip to keep from giggling.

When she got to the break room, she took a chance to peek at him through the window. He was leaning against the desk, a bemused smile on his face. He had his hands draped casually over his crotch, and was glancing around furtively. Kate felt herself blushing furiously. _Did I really make him...? Just from doing that?_ She couldn't help wondering how far she might be able to push him. _No, that's too cruel. He's doing what I asked, without complaint. I shouldn't torture him._ Though the idea was delicious.

* * *

"Detective Beckett, that was so much fun." Alexis gushed, a wide grin on her face, and her pale skin flushed with exertion. Kate smiled, thinking that Castle had been right, she was a natural. She was already showing a pretty good understanding of the principles of self defence, and had been able to pick things up quickly enough that Kate had felt comfortable letting her actually try out a few throws and trips.

"Glad you enjoyed it, Alexis. But call me Kate, please." She liked this girl. Had done almost from the moment they first met, when she had been apologizing for her father's idiotic behaviour, stealing those crime scene photos. She'd immediately made an impact as a smart, grounded, sensible girl. At the time, Kate had wondered how on earth the overgrown buffoon had raised such a normal daughter. But she knew him much better now.

Alexis smiled. "Kate." She confirmed. "I never really thought of learning something like this before, but dad was pretty insistent, and it sounded like it could be fun." She grinned again. "And what do you know? It is fun."

It was just the two of them left. The other women had trailed out of the precinct gym a few minutes ago, but Kate had offered to drive Alexis home after the session. Castle had said he needed to get some work done, and she didn't want him hanging around unsupervised for a whole hour. "Your dad was insistent? I guess it's understandable."

"Yeah. He's pretty freaked about this case. Since he got home from the precinct yesterday, he's barely stopped asking questions about my friends, classmates, whether there are any trouble causers." She smiled, rolling her eyes in affectionate exasperation.

"He just wants to know you're safe."

"I know. I don't mind, really." Alexis was suddenly serious. "But sometimes, I think he gets worried too easily, these days." She stopped, looking at Kate with a directness and confidence that was surprising. "Since he started working with you. He's seen so much that even he never imagined."

Kate opened her mouth to apologize, though she wasn't quite sure what for. Alexis hurriedly said, "I don't mean it's a bad thing, or that he shouldn't be doing this. It's just…" She shrugged helplessly, "He takes things to heart too much."

Kate stared, lost for words. She was used to the image of Castle as the carefree, happy-go-lucky dilettante, though she knew there was far more to him than that. Still, she realized she was a complete novice when it came to Richard Castle, and here she was, talking to someone who had a PhD in the subject.

"Sounds like my dad." She said, absently, and saw a spark of interest kindle in the girl's eyes. Quick to get away from that subject, she asked, "So you have a close relationship, then?" The question was cringeworthy. Of course they had a close relationship!

Alexis answered readily, though. "Oh yeah. For as long as I can remember, it was just me and him. Except for Gina." She scowled slightly.

"You didn't get on?" Kate couldn't resist the question. Her guilt outweighed by this rare opportunity to get past the mask that Castle wore so ably.

Alexis pondered for a moment. "We didn't dislike each other. But she wasn't stepmom material, which is what dad was looking for." Kate raised her eyebrows, and Alexis saw she'd caught her interest. "I was twelve when they started dating, and I could tell dad was worried." She smirked. "Puberty, I guess. He's pretty squeamish when it comes to talking about that sort of stuff. I think he wanted me to have a role model. Someone to look up to, who I could ask the questions dad wouldn't, or couldn't, answer." Kate listened, entranced. "Gina was so… together. Successful, serious, ambitious." She laughed. "So not like mom."

"But, didn't he love her?" Kate's guilt now at prying was forgotten. She needed to know this.

"I guess he did. I'd never seen him like he was with her. It upset me a bit, this new woman in our lives. I wasn't used to sharing him." Her crooked smile at that showed how silly she thought that was. "He'd never had a girlfriend before. At least, in my memory."

Kate was stunned. "What? But he's always bragging about the women he used to pick up when he was at the park with you, or the museum."

Alexis frowned, confused. "There were always women there, with their own kids. And I guess he did have… relationships. But I can only remember a few times when he was ever out all night, when the babysitter had to stay over. And he never had women come to the apartment."

_But he's always saying that…_ She was lost. _He was lying? Why?_ She couldn't fathom a reason why he'd do that. He could tell she didn't approve of his boasts, and now they might not even be true? Alexis was starting to look uncomfortable, clearly realizing she'd said something out of place. Kate quickly smiled to reassure her.

The girl looked relieved, and continued. "Anyway, after a while, all dad and Gina did was either fight or ignore each other. It was horrible. She left, and I was glad. It was just the two of us again, until Gram moved in a couple of years ago." She smiled brightly.

Kate nodded, trying to process the amount of information Alexis had so carelessly given her about Castle. "Come on. We should get you home. Your dad will be worried."

Alexis' smile faltered. "Actually, I do have something I'd like to talk to you about. Get your advice on." Kate paused, and studied her. Whatever it was, it was important to her, and Kate found herself wanting to help the girl.

"Sure. Um, you fancy getting something to eat? Better than talking in the car." Alexis nodded, pleased and looking more than a little relieved. That gave Kate something to consider. Was this girl as self assured as she seemed? "Ok, I'll call your dad, you get changed." Alexis smiled and hurried off into the locker room, as Kate watched her go, pensively. Clearly this was something more than advice on studying abroad. She picked up her phone, to let Castle know they'd be a little later than she'd thought.

* * *

**Ooh, what could Alexis have to discuss with Kate? Sounds important, right? If you read and review, then maybe you'll find out. ;)**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **I spent some time thinking of different conversations Beckett and Alexis could have, and in the end, went for the obvious one, the pressing issue for both of them. They'll probably have more scenes together, about various things.

Part of this chapter is a real downer, but I was determined to end it on a fluffy, 'up' note. So if you think the Castle and Beckett shake off the depressing bit too easily, it's because I figure they feel the same as me, and want to change the subject.

* * *

**Chapter 13**

Kate watched as Alexis settled herself in the booth opposite her, still curious about what the girl could possibly have to talk to her about. Something she couldn't talk to her father or grandmother about?

They'd come down from the precinct to Kate's favourite source of late night culinary satisfaction, Remy's. The food was great, relatively cheap, and the service was friendly and laid back. They'd walked from the precinct, both just in jeans and a t-shirt, it was only three blocks, and the evening was fairly warm.

Chatting of inconsequential things on the way, Alexis had talked of her studies, and Kate had given her a few tips on fashion. Or her version of fashion, anyway. The conversation was easy and Kate enjoyed it thoroughly.

Now they were safely ensconced in their booth though, Alexis suddenly looked uncomfortable again, as though her problem was weighing down on her. Kate could see she was trying to put her opening gambit together, and took pity on her. "So, what is it you wanted to ask me about, Alexis? Clearly it's something important." She smiled reassuringly.

Alexis looked pensive for a moment, fiddling idly with the salt shaker on the table. Finally, she looked up and met Kate's gaze. "If you really care about someone, should you do something to make them happy, even if it's something you don't want to do? If you love them?"

Kate froze, suddenly fearful that she was completely out of her depth. _Is she talking about…? Castle never said anything about her having a boyfriend. _Then another thought struck her. _What if he doesn't know about it?_ This definitely wasn't something she should be getting involved in. "Alexis," She began, hesitantly, "If there's someone, a boy, who wants you to… do something. Something you're not comfortable with…"

The girl's eyes widened in alarm. "No! That's… God, that's not what I'm talking about!" She looked shocked, and her cheeks were a little pink.

Kate took a breath, relieved beyond belief. "Oh, thank God." She exhaled. That wasn't a conversation she felt equipped to deal with. Especially with Castle's daughter. She let out a grateful little laugh, and Alexis grinned, close to laughter herself.

"Don't worry, Kate. I would never force that onto you." She cocked her head prettily. "It wouldn't be fair to you."

Absurdly, Kate suddenly felt the need to offer just that. "Ok. But if you do ever need advice… on that, then please feel comfortable to ask me." She grinned. "I'll try to react better than I did just now."

Alexis looked pleased, and surprised. "Thank you. I may hold you to that, one day."

Taking a moment, to regain her calm, Kate then asked, "So, what was it you were trying to say, before I so rudely interrupted you?"

"Yeah. It's not about boys." She looked for a moment as though she was having serious doubts about asking this. "It's about my dad." At Kate's raised eyebrows, she quickly elaborated. "He told you about the screenplay offer he's received, right?"

"Oh, yeah, he mentioned it." Kate tried to sound casual again, but this really was a sore point for her. And it certainly didn't seem to be going away.

"So you know about them wanting us to go to L.A. for the summer, so he can work with the producers and everything?" Kate nodded. "Well, he asked me if I wanted to go, and I don't know what to tell him."

A brief silence fell as the waitress arrived with their food. Burger and fries, and shakes. Kate's idea of a good meal, and Alexis felt the same, judging by how her eyes lit up. After the waitress left, Kate asked, "You don't want to go?" She tried to keep any of her own feelings on the matter completely under wraps.

Alexis looked pained for a moment. "I don't, but I know it means so much to him. He was so excited about it when he first told me, but he could tell I wasn't sure." She looked down at her hands, fingers interlocked and pressed tightly together. "I know that if I tell him I don't want to go, we won't. But I just don't want him to have to pass up this opportunity." She looked up again, her eyes meeting Kate's, and Kate's heart twisted slightly at the need and vulnerability she saw in them.

Unthinkingly, she reached across the table and covered Alexis' hands with her own. "Well, I guess the only way to look at this is logically. To begin with, why don't you want to go?"

Alexis let out a bitter snort. "Because I know what the people are like. Don't get me wrong, I love my mom, but I hate her world. Every time I go out and visit, she introduces me to all of these people. Actors, producers, wannabe actors and producers. And none of them are real." Kate blinked at that word, the one she'd once used to earmark the difference between Castle's college sweetheart and the woman he married.

"How do you mean?" She asked, though she thought she knew the answer already.

"They just… they're careless. With feelings, with money and with things." She looked helpless for a moment. "My dad really wants to write movies as well as books, he's built it up in his mind as some wonderful ideal. I've already seen how disappointed he was when he got back from L.A. last week. It'll be far worse if he has to spend three whole months with them."

Kate was stunned. _So selfless, _she thought, _so grounded._ She was a little in awe of the girl, but then relaxed when Alexis showed a healthy degree of teenaged self concern.

"Plus, I don't want to spend the whole summer with nothing to do but sunbathe and read, whilst my friends are all still here, and my dad's working all hours."

Kate smiled. "There's nothing wrong with that, either. Have you talked to your dad about any of this?"

Alexis frowned. "No. If I do, he'll just tell me it doesn't matter to him, and we'll stay home. Or go on holiday somewhere else. But it does matter to him. I know it does."

Kate knew she was right. Castle would give up any dream he had in an instant if he thought it would avoid upsetting his little girl. She found herself wanting to smile again, warmed simply by the thought of that kind of devotion. She resisted, and tried to fix a serious, thoughtful expression on her face.

"So, you don't want to go, but you don't want to say you don't want to go, because if you do, you won't go." Kate raised her eyebrow, an amused quirk tugged at her lips. "Is that about the long and short of it?"

Alexis giggled, and gazed off into the distance, as though deciphering what she'd just said. Then, nodding, she agreed. "Yeah. That's it."

Kate gave an exaggerated shrug of the shoulders. "Well, I just don't know how to help you there. Mainly because I have no idea what everything I just said actually means." They both laughed together, slowly lapsing into a comfortable silence. Kate just looked at the girl for a moment, then said. "Honestly, that's a difficult choice to make, Alexis, and you know your father far better than I do." She wanted, so much, to tell the girl to run to her dad and tell him she wasn't going to go anywhere, force him to stay in New York, but Kate resolutely pushed that selfish urge down, and offered what she sincerely hoped would be the best advice she could. "Sometimes we just have to let the people we care about forge their own path, even if it doesn't make us happy, or if we worry that they'll end up being hurt." Alexis gazed at her, nodding just slightly. "And you know you won't be happy if he stays here just because you asked him to." The words were for her, just as much as they were for Alexis. _If Rick decides to go, I won't say anything to him. I won't ask him not to._

Alexis sighed and looked down at the nearly empty shake glass in front of her. "You're right. I guess I knew all that already, just didn't want to accept it." She perked up slightly. "Hey, there's always a chance that he'll see sense and decide it's a stupid idea all on his own."

Kate grinned at that. "Richard Castle, see sense? Are you sure you're not a fiction writer yourself?" They both laughed at that, and Kate waved over the waitress to pay for the meal.

"Thanks, Kate." The sincerity in Alexis' words was touching, and her warm smile felt like an affirmation of worth.

"Any time, Alexis." She replied, and meant it wholeheartedly. "Come on, let's get you home before your dad sends out Search and Rescue."

* * *

Alexis came close to demanding that Kate came up to the loft, to say hello to her dad, and Kate couldn't think of a polite way to decline. _Why is it so hard to say no to this girl?_ She wondered, ruefully. She possessed all of her father's charm, with none of the cynicism or glibness that he so often displayed.

Shaking her head helplessly, she trailed after Alexis as they headed down the corridor towards the loft. Still, she couldn't deny the small thrill she felt at the prospect of seeing Castle in his own home, relaxed, guard down. It was a treat she'd rarely allowed herself, and she hadn't been there since her brief stay after her apartment had been blown up by Dunn. Just a few days spent living with them, with him, and she'd been close to having a full blown panic attack. She fitted in too easily, like there was a space just waiting for her to occupy it, alongside Castle and his daughter. It had terrified her, and she'd known that she had to get out before it felt too much like home.

Thinking back, she realized that those fears had prompted many of the difficulties they'd had since. Her discreet widening of the distance between them, the drawing of boundaries had been a defence mechanism on her part, and it had led to heartache for them both. She didn't know if his dalliance with Ellie Munroe had anything at all to do with those boundaries, but she knew that her brief relationship with Tom did. It was an episode she really wanted to put behind her.

Alexis swept into the loft, breezily calling out that she was home. "Hey, sweetie," Came Castle's voice from the direction of his office. "You have a good time?" He sounded distant, distracted. Alexis waved vaguely in that direction, signaling Kate to go and say hello. She didn't need any further prompting. As Alexis headed for the stairs, Kate drifted towards the open office door.

She caught sight of Castle, sitting behind his desk. He had his feet up and his laptop rested on his lap, he was typing away, a mile a minute, with a vague smile on his face. Kate stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and watched him. He didn't notice her, too engrossed in his work, and she felt a smile creeping onto her face. This was a side of him she'd never seen, the man at work. Oh, she had felt that surge of excitement a dozen times, twice that, when he came up with stories and theories about the cases they were working, but this was different. This was the man whose writing had been so important to her in the darkest part of her life, this was how she'd always imagined him, before meeting. An intense look of concentration, tinged with pure joy at turning his imagination into stories for all to enjoy.

It must have been a good five minutes, that she stood there, just studying him, and his hands didn't lift from the keyboard once. Occasionally, his face would go blank, his eyes distant, as though he was running an idea through his head, picturing how it would fit, and where it would go, before that slight curve of his lips indicated that he'd found the answer, and the typing resumed. She was ensorcelled, captivated.

Belatedly, she recalled the reason that Alexis had cajoled her into coming up in the first place. To say hello. She cleared her throat audibly, and waited. After a moment, he looked up, and she watched him as the realization of who he was looking at spread across his face, accompanied by a delighted smile. "Kate! Hi, I didn't know you were… How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long, Castle." She figured it wasn't a lie, just a relative term. "Nice to see you're doing your own job for a change. How's the book going?"

"It's going well, very well." He paused, then stood up, waving her towards him. "Come in, please. How was your evening? My daughter didn't bother you too much, I hope."

"Not nearly as much as her father does, I can assure you." Kate walked over, and perched herself on the edge of his desk, and he sat back down, leaning forward eagerly.

"You know you wouldn't have it any other way, Kate." He said, cheekily, and she grinned back at him.

"No, I suppose I wouldn't." She gazed into his eyes, and the world seemed to blur slightly around her. She couldn't look away, and watched as his eyes strayed to her lips. Her breath stopped in her throat.

Then, with visible struggle, he dragged his eyes away from her. "So, did you just drop in to say hello, or are you here on business." His voice was slightly thicker than normal.

Shaken out of her reverie, and trying to smother the deep disappointment, Kate suddenly couldn't recall why she was there. "Oh, yeah. No, Alexis just suggested I come up and say hello."

Castle smiled at her. "I'm glad she did. It's always great to see you outside work, Kate." The earnest tone in his voice made her smile, which, she briefly considered, was something she was doing more and more around him, for less and less reason. She stood, and wandered over to his smart board. She still found it odd that his way of concocting stories for his novels was so similar to the way she corralled and studied evidence in cases. Gazing with idle interest at the different headings and lists displayed, she couldn't help but wonder how he'd come by this logical, ordered system, when everything about him seemed so… instinctive… so organic.

Turning around again, Kate saw that he was still watching her, that spark of desire in his eyes. She'd not noticed it before that moment in the observation room. Or rather, she hadn't acknowledged it, had explained it away as one of the many idiosyncrasies that combined to form this man, but now she was seeing it more and more, and he wasn't hiding it. She supposed she'd given him permission to show it to her, though she was still a long way from letting him know how much she enjoyed it. "So, are you going to tell me what the book's about?" She asked, trying to make her voice light, the conversation breezy.

He followed her example. "What? Give away my secrets? How do I know you won't go spoiling it for all my other readers? You'll just have to wait until release, like everyone else. Or, in your case, a little before release." He grinned as he pointed a remote at the smart board, and the screen flickered into darkness.

"Oh, so you will remember to let me read it before some random reporter, this time?" She asked, archly. It had stung a little, though she knew it was foolish, when she'd read that Cosmo article and discovered that the woman had actually been given an advance copy of his last book, Heat Wave.

Castle looked at her seriously. "Kate, you'll be the very first person, other than my editor and Alexis, to read the finished book. I promise."

"Well. Good then, thank you." She'd been expecting something playful, teasing. This solemn, sincere Castle was a little unnerving at times. It was something Kate was still getting used to, but she found him much harder to dismiss than frivolous, flirtatious Castle had been. She'd once joked about him wanting to peel the layers of the Beckett Onion, but she was starting to see that the Castle Onion was just as deep. You just had to get through more superficial layers to see the heart of him. "I should go." She told him, with resolve. "It's getting late, and we have lots of work to do tomorrow. Besides, I really should let you get back to your real job."

For a moment, he was clearly going to argue, to ask her to stay a little longer, but then he subsided. "Ok, I guess you're right. Still, we should do this again. Soon." He stood up and followed her back out to the front door. "Until tomorrow, Kate."

"Until tomorrow." His lips curved into an affectionate smile when she echoed him, and he quickly leant in and brushed his lips across her cheek, just at the corner of her mouth, his hand stroking momentarily down her arm. She leaned in slightly, but he pulled away, grinning.

She walked back to the elevator grinning like a fool, thinking that they would do this again. It was nice, to talk to him away from work, without having to think about murders. She could still feel the touch of his lips on her cheek, and the goosebumps on her arm where his hand had briefly made contact with her bare skin. _Yes. We'll definitely do that again._

_

* * *

_

Rick felt full of energy when he arrived at the precinct, eager to contribute in any way he could to the case. Despite the very welcome visit by Kate Beckett the previous night, he was optimistic that Naked Heat would be finished before too much longer. Well, the first draft, at least, though he'd honed his skills over the past decade to the point that he could avoid a lot of rewriting. He had no illusions about his books, they were mass market, pulp fiction, and the pattern he'd established, the formula, worked well. Of course, he didn't consider them formulaic, but he had developed a feel for spotting things that wouldn't work before an editor even had to look at the manuscript. Plus, he had his own live in editor, in the form of Alexis. If anything, she was even better than him at picking up on aberrations.

So, his newfound positive mood was going to be focused on finding the murderer of Jason Williams. For the next eight hours, at least. He exchanged brief greetings with a few people on his way in, but didn't stop to chat, making a beeline for that leggy, elegant figure, standing in front of the murder board, a look of keen concentration on her face. He could see her mind working, as her eyes flitted across the board, picking pieces of evidence here, and matching them with ones there. For most of his adult life, intelligence had not been much of a factor in women he'd forged brief relationships with. Of course, they'd been fairly bright, for the most part, but that was not what he'd been interested in. But this woman, her keen intellect was as potent in stimulating his desire as her beauty was._ You're finally ready to think about an adult relationship. Good for you._ That little voice in his head was a lot less sharp now, than it had been just a week ago. He hoped it was right.

"Morning, detective." He called as he approached, careful to use her title in this setting. "Already hard at work, I see." He held out the paper bag containing a bearclaw for her, and proffered one of the coffees that he was carefully carrying in the small cardboard tray.

"Morning, Castle. Wow, you're spoiling me." She took the pastry and coffee with a pleased little smile, ducking her head a little, as she so often did when she wanted to hide a reaction from him. Rick swelled with pleasure. He had truly missed this, when she was with Demming. It was such a simple thing, to bring her coffee in the mornings, or in the afternoons, or any time she wanted it, really, but he enjoyed it thoroughly. That she allowed him to do something for her, even if it was just to bring her a drink, wasn't lost on him. When he'd first arrived, she'd wanted nothing to do with him or his coffee, and he considered it no small achievement that he'd inveigled himself into her life to such an extent that it was now something he could do without question.

He lowered his voice, for her ears only. "Well, if anyone deserves to be spoiled, it's you." Her answering smile, and suddenly flushed cheeks were all the reward he needed for that. "So, we're going out to Westchester today, right?"

"Right. Need to speak to Rebecca Brooks' parents. I want to know more about what happened to their daughter." Beckett glanced at him, as though gauging his reaction to her words, and he felt a surge of affection for her. She was worried about him, about how he might handle what the Brooks might have to say.

He covered with irritation. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. There won't be anything I haven't heard before." Still, Beckett paused for a moment, before nodding.

"Ok, well we've got time to drink this, and eat this, and then we can go. I already called them to let them know."

* * *

The house was quite impressive, Rick thought. Just the sort of place he might buy if he ever wanted to move out of the city. Not at all like his summer house in the Hamptons. This place was cozy looking, somewhere for a family to live. But the face of the man who opened the door reminded him forcefully that it wasn't a family that lived here. Not anymore.

"Detectives, please come in." Mr. Brooks was polite but the red rimmed eyes and drawn expression told Rick that this was going to be anything but a relaxing, cordial visit.

"Oh, that's 'detective', singular." He advised. "I'm a writer, just shadowing Detective Beckett here on her cases." He might as well have saved his breath, Mr. Brooks barely acknowledged the words, just led them into an airy, lovingly furnished sitting room, where his wife waited. She looked even worse than he had. Pale and gaunt, her hands pressed between her knees. _To stop them trembling?_ Rick wondered, idly. As they all sat down, Mr. Brooks next to his wife, and Rick and Kate opposite, Rick was shocked to see that these people could only be a handful of years older than himself. They both seemed so frail. _What grief does to us._ It was a sobering thought.

Beckett didn't beat around the bush, though. She was always so good at dealing with grieving families. "Mr. Brooks, Mrs. Brooks, you know why we're here. We need to ask some questions… about Rebecca." They both nodded, jerkily. "As you're aware, the boy she accused of attacking her was found dead yesterday morning. Shot."

Mr. Brooks tensed at that. "'Accused'? More than accused, detective. That boy forced himself on her! On our little girl."

Beckett was immediately contrite. "I apologize, that was an unfortunate choice of words. But he was never convicted of that crime, and now he's dead. So I need to know what happened. As much as you can tell me."

The man nodded again, his hand blindly reaching out to engulf his wife's, which were now trembling, despite her efforts to control them. "Very well. Becky was at a party. She didn't go to many, too busy studying, but her friends convinced her. Said it was unmissable, that everyone would be there." He paused for a moment, a bitter twist to his mouth. "Anyway, Becky had a few drinks, more than she should have, and she said everything went black. She woke up on a bed with that boy forcing himself on her. The music was too loud for anyone to hear her screams for help." He stopped again, looking at his wife, whose grief-stricken look matched his own. "She did what she was supposed to, went to the police. But as soon as they found out who it was, they weren't interested."

"Why not?" Beckett interjected, her voice pitched low and gentle, as though she feared speaking would cause them to fall apart.

"He was a star. Highest points scoring in… Whatever, it doesn't matter. Becky said they treated her as though they knew she was lying, implied that she was accusing him for some petty, spiteful reason." He took a deep, shuddering breath.

In the silence that followed, Mrs. Brooks spoke for the first time. "Becky would never have done that consensually. She was a good girl. And when the police didn't believe her, it was bad enough, but the other children at school heard all about it, and they made her life Hell." Her anger seemed to be smothering the grief for the moment, and Rick really didn't know if that was to their benefit or not. "They made fun of her, wrote things on her locker, accused her of lying, just like the police did. She was on the verge of a breakdown, and we had to pull her out of the school. Not that they cared, either! More interested in their golden boy." She spat those words out with utter contempt. "What did they care for a vulnerable, frightened girl who needed their support?" She was starting to tremble again, and Rick opened his mouth to say words that he hoped would be consoling, and soothing, but he was having a hard enough time controlling his own emotions, imagining stalking right back into Osbourne's office and punching him right in the middle of his smug, superior face.

Luckily, Mr. Brooks interceded before him, squeezing his wife's hand and whispering quiet words into her ear. He looked back at Beckett. "We moved out of the city, tried to give her a fresh start. But she just wasn't the same girl, didn't seem to want to recover. She saw counselors, even a psychiatrist, but nothing helped. It was like living with a ghost. And, four weeks ago she took a bottle of sleeping pills, and swallowed them all." His eyes were welling up again, and he swallowed convulsively. "I'm glad that boy is dead. He deserved it for what he did, and for what he refused to own up to. I only wish he could have been made to suffer for weeks like our daughter was."

There wasn't much either Rick or Beckett could say to that, so the silence grew, long and awkward. Eventually, Beckett asked the question Rick had been dreading. "Do you own a firearm, Mr. Brooks?"

He laughed, bitterly, and nodded. "Yes, I do. I can show it to you, if you like." At Beckett's nod, he stood and moved to a cabinet on the far side of the room. Quickly unlocking the door, he opened it and retrieved a pistol from the top shelf, and brought it back over, handing it to Beckett without ceremony.

She studied it. "A .38. Too big to be our murder weapon." She sniffed it briefly. "When was it last fired?"

"Last week. I've been… taking out my frustrations on the targets at the local gun club. I have a licence for it, if you'd like to see that as well."

"No, that won't be necessary, Mr. Brooks. However, I do need to ask you both where you were yesterday morning, between six and eight in the morning."

Without pause, Mrs. Brooks told them she'd been in bed, asleep. "I was out jogging, from six until seven, and then I went down to the store. The one four blocks east. I was there, talking to the proprietor for a good twenty minutes. Then I came home, to get ready for work."

Beckett nodded, looking at both of them with a degree of empathy that Rick found incredible. "Thank you, both of you, for your time." She stood, and Rick followed suit, eager to be gone. "We may need to ask you some more questions, in the future. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not, detective. Though I hope it isn't remiss of me to say, you should pin a medal on the man who killed him, not arrest him."

His words followed them out of the house, and Rick couldn't help but agree. Far from the clean cut, all-American boy he'd seen at the crime scene, Jason Williams had morphed into a callow, devious, selfish little punk. He wasn't naïve, he knew that this sort of thing happened, especially in the hormone and testosterone driven world of high school. He was a boy who'd been conditioned to believe that the world was his for the taking, what would it matter to him if one part of it didn't want to be taken?

Rick didn't say a word as they pulled away from the house, and Beckett left him alone with his thoughts for some time. When he glanced at her, he saw why. Her face was closed off, a distant look in her eyes, and he realized that she too was examining her own innermost thoughts on the unpalatable turn their case had taken. "Kate, are you ok?"

She blinked, and glanced at him in surprise. "Shouldn't I be asking you that question, Rick?" She looked briefly apologetic. "Sorry, I just can't help thinking back to when I was in high school. All those boys I went to class with, the quarterback who I had a massive crush on, the boy Madison and I fell out over. How many of them might have been tempted to do the same thing Williams did? How many of them did things like that, and were never punished?"

He sighed heavily. "Let's hope that Williams was an exception to the rule." He certainly hoped that there weren't boys like that at his daughter's school. The thought crossed his mind that he could bribe Ryan and Esposito into doing background checks on them, drawing up a list for him. He dismissed it, knowing it would be trouble he'd never known if either Beckett or Alexis found out about it. Trying to force levity into his voice, he said, "So, you had a crush on the quarterback, huh?"

Beckett glanced at him, at once seeming both grateful and upset that he changed the subject so quickly. "Yeah. Big tall blonde boy. Dimples and blue eyes, the sweetest smile. Everyone had a crush on him."

"Well, when you describe him like that, I think I might have a crush on him too." Rick joked, and counted it a victory when it drew a reluctant little laugh from Beckett.

"You're welcome to him. My tastes are more for ruggedly handsome these days." Her sidelong look at him quickened his heart.

"Ruggedly handsome is good." He told her, feeling genuine happiness for the first time since they'd left the precinct that morning. "I hear it's a quality much sought after by discerning women. Especially when combined with devastating wit and keen intelligence."

"Oh, Ricky, you were doing so well until the 'intelligence' part." He could hear the laughter in her voice now, and it pleased him immensely that he was able to get this reaction out of her so readily.

"So I've not convinced you yet, then?" He hadn't meant to ask it, and wished he could stuff the words back into his mouth, swallowing them without trace. He'd promised himself that he wouldn't push her.

She was quiet for a moment, as though considering, and he found himself holding his breath. "Not yet. But you're on the right track." She didn't look at him, just smiled as she watched the road ahead of them.

* * *

**See? A downer avoided, hopefully. But no cliffhanger for you this time, just slightly fluffy fun. And progress for Castle. Please read and review.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **I tried to get the stuff with the gun right, and the stuff in the hospital. But there's only so much that watching E.R and The Unit will tell you about those things. So, if stuff was wrong, well so be it.

I've had this running around in my head for a while now, and finally found a place to fit it in the story.

* * *

**Chapter 14**

They had lapsed back into a comfortable silence for most of the trip back to Manhattan. It was a new thing between them, and something Rick really was warming to. The teasing and flirting was a lot of fun, especially now that Beckett was spicing things up, but there was something so… nice about sharing a companionable silence with someone else.

He thought back to a couple of occasions recently where she'd so effortlessly led him by the nose, right up to the brink, and then slipped away like mist, leaving him floundering. Looking across at her now, watching as she gazed almost serenely out of the windscreen, he decided that playful, teasing, and above all, devastatingly sexy side of her told him that actually being with her would be something beyond even his most sordid fantasies. He found himself grinning almost lasciviously at the prospect.

That was when she glanced back at him, her expression curious, and a little suspicious. "What? What are you smiling at?"

"You." He said simply, and watched the colour creep into her cheeks. _She blushes so easily,_ he thought, wonderingly. _Why couldn't I get this reaction out of her before? Or did I, and I was too busy trying to hide my own feelings to see it?_

"And what are you watching me for, Castle?" She was going for stern, but he could still see that mix of pleasure and self-conscious awareness on her face. Half a dozen witty lines flashed through his head, designed to annoy her, or entice her. He discarded them all, and decided that the truth was his best bet.

"I like looking at you, Kate." He told her, watching as the pink flush deepened. "Seriously, it's becoming one of my favourite past times. A hobby, almost."

"A hobby? You're a busy man, Castle, I'm not sure you have time for hobbies." Her tone was light and teasing, which seemed to be her default setting these days, much to Rick's delight.

"Oh, I can always make time for things that are truly important, don't you worry about that."

"I'm sure you can. And you seem to make time for less important things, too. Very impressive." Her smirk robbed the words of any sting, and she turned back to focus on the road ahead of them. Rick subsided, and let the quiet creep in and take them again.

Just as he was settling down for a daydream about some of the things he might do to Beckett, given half a chance, the shrill ring of his phone made him jump. Beckett snorted in quickly stifled laughter, and he gave her a dirty look as he answered. "Castle."

The voice on the other end was as harried as usual, and as blunt. "Rick, are you avoiding my calls again? I've got Hollywood bigwigs breathing down my neck for a decision, I've got your ex-wife starting to ask pointed questions about Naked Heat, and I've got gossip columnists wanting to know why you're mysteriously absent from the scene lately. So let's play a game called, 'What have you done for me, lately?"

Rick cringed slightly, and turned away from Beckett's questioning look. "Paula, hi. It's always lovely to hear your dulcet tones."

"Don't try to charm me, Richard Castle. You know damn well that it doesn't work. I've known you too long. So, first things first. I know you told me the book was going well the other day, but how well? Your deadline is up in two weeks, and Black Pawn are getting seriously antsy. They want to know you'll be finished on time."

"I might be." He paused at her exclamation of disbelief. "I might! It's been going… really well since I got back from L.A." He couldn't stop his eyes from drifting towards the woman sat next to him. Rick was under no illusions about why his writers' block had suddenly disappeared, right around the time that he confessed his feelings to her, and she then let him know she reciprocated. If he was honest with himself, it frightened him a little. He'd never had his ability to write influenced so heavily by feelings for another person, before, and he dreaded to think where he'd be right now if she had rejected him. _I called her my muse as a bit of fun, but it's starting to look like it was more prescient than I ever imagined._

As it was, he was just glad that Beckett could only hear one side of the conversation. The detective in her might put two and two together, and hit closer to home than he was comfortable with. Still, she raised her eyebrows questioningly, and he knew she'd be asking him about it at a more opportune time.

"So how long, Rick? Days? Weeks?" A pause. "Months?"

"Weeks. Definitely weeks. Honestly, Paula, I'm on the home stretch, rounded third a couple of days ago."

"Well, I know you're not famed for your athletic prowess, but if you could run just a little faster, we'd all be happier. Capiche?"

He sighed, defeated. "Capiche."

"And maybe you should think about spending less time with your little friend. The one with the handcuffs and gun."

"That's not an issue." He told her, firmly, not wanting to hear anyone speak of Beckett so dismissively.

"Right, of course it isn't. Why are you still sniffing after her anyway? Didn't you tell me she has a boyfriend?" He could picture the baffled, slightly nauseous look that Paula always got when talking about relationships.

"That was a… temporary situation, as it turned out." This was a strain, talking around the topic so that Beckett wouldn't catch on. Or at least, he hoped she wouldn't. He risked another glance, and could tell she was listening intently.

"Oh, Rick, if she was going to let you into her pants, she would have done it already. Just think about spending the summer in L.A, and all the nubile, impressionable young girls you'll meet. All just looking for an experienced older man to take them under his wing, teach them the ways of the world."

"Yeah, thanks for that image, Paula. I'll be sure to keep it in mind."

"Good. Because Bruce wants an answer, and I can't keep throwing blocks to save your ass."

"He'll have one when I know what it is." He said, shortly, wishing he had the slightest clue what that answer would be. It was something he'd been avoiding as much as possible. _Never do today what you can still put off tomorrow, _he thought, wryly.

"Well, I'm certainly not going to tell him that, Rick. You wanted this damn gig! You had me talking to the producers almost from the moment they approached us for the rights. If you're not interested any more, just say so, and save me a lot of trouble."

"I am interested!" He winced and quickly lowered the volume of his voice, glancing again at Beckett, guiltily. "I am still interested. It's just… it's a big decision, and everything has to be right." He sighed again. "I'll talk to Alexis about it again tonight."

"Good. Now, about the third question, I suppose it's not even worth asking now, is it? Ever since you met that girl you've been a massive disappointment to paparazzi and tabloid hacks all over the city. You'll be lucky to even make the Eligible Bachelor list next time." Before he could protest, she breezily said goodbye and disconnected.

Rick glared at the phone, momentarily, and then sighed again, shoving it back into his pocket, with more force than was strictly necessary.

"Your agent hassling you?" The question was innocuous, her tone indicating that the answer was of no importance, but Rick didn't miss how Beckett's shoulders had tensed, and her hands gripped the steering wheel more tightly than was necessary.

"Yeah, she's chasing me for the book. It should be finished by now, or as good as."

"Why isn't it?" Again, that casual tone of voice that was so at odds with her body language.

He tried to hit the same beat, and failed. "Oh, you know, plot revisions, characters coming and going. It's writer stuff, not something you'd be interested in."

That did earn him a glare. "You don't have to be an asshole about it, Castle. If you don't want to tell me, fine." He stared, speechless at how quickly her demeanour changed.

"Well, I'm sorry if you think I'm being an asshole, but it's just not worth talking about.." He couldn't keep the snippy tone out of his own voice, either, and prayed she'd let it go.

She narrowed her eyes briefly, before saying, "Ok, well in future just say that. There's no need to be so condescending." He could hear the hurt in her voice.

"I'm sorry, Kate. I didn't mean to be rude, really. It's just that Paula's grating on my nerves at the moment. Things are stacking up a bit, getting on top of me."

Beckett watched him for a moment, before nodding once, and turning her eyes back to the road. "Apology accepted. But for future reference, I do find your work worth talking about."

He didn't really know what to say to that, so just sat quietly for what remained of the journey.

* * *

"Hey, Beckett, Castle," Esposito greeted them as they traipsed back into the precinct, still not having spoken since their disagreement in the car. "We got Ballistics back on the gun." He waved a slim file at them, and the contrasting expressions on the faces of he and Ryan told Rick that things might be about to get interesting. Ryan looked eager, and amused, whilst Esposito looked like he'd been chewing nails.

Beckett clearly got the same read of the situation, resigned to whatever she was about to hear. "Ok, let's have it, Esposito."

"Get this. The gun used was not your run of the mill handgun."

She waved that off impatiently. "I know that, Esposito. 7.62mm, Lanie thought."

"Yeah, well she was right. Now, there are plenty of guns that fire .30cal ammo. Mostly rifles, or machine guns. A few revolvers, but we know it wasn't one of those, because forensics found a shell casing in the alley. Unless the guy emptied out the chambers at the scene."

Ryan butted in, glancing reprovingly at his partner for hogging all of the exposition. "Plus, the fact we only found one casing indicates the killer cleaned up after himself. He missed this one due to the fact it rolled under a crate in the alley."

Beckett shared an impatient glance between them. "Any time you guys feel like telling me something new. I'll just be standing here, getting older."

"This shell casing is from a Tokarev 7.62mm bullet. So, Ballistics have given us a weapon." Esposito paused, frowning at the file briefly. "Type-54 pistol. Used by the People's Liberation Army from 1950 through to today."

"Chinese?" Rick was shocked. "What's a Chinese army pistol doing on the streets of New York?" A thought struck him. "You think it's the Triads?"

Beckett looked at him, clearly surprised herself. "I don't think the Triads would be using Chinese army equipment, Castle. Not when it's so easy to get good old American guns on any street corner."

Esposito was nodding. "You can't import these things. Sanctions against Chinese weapons manufacturers. My guess is, it's a souvenir. Brought back from Korea or Vietnam, and ended up in the wrong hands."

Rick froze, his mind ticking over. "Or the hands it had always been in _became _wrong."

The rest of them frowned at that, trying to decipher his meaning. Beckett was first, as usual. "You think the killer was a war vet, that he fought in South East Asia?"

"It's not unheard of, is it? Old guys who've been keeping unregistered guns for decades, decide to go out and kill someone. Hell, we've even come across it whilst I've been working with you, remember?" He paused again. "And I think I know who it was."

He had their full attention now. "Winston Brooks."

"That's… not very likely, Castle. Winston Brooks doesn't have any military experience. He's never fought anywhere, let alone Vietnam."

"Yeah, plus, look at the guy," Ryan said, dismissively gesturing towards the picture of Winston Brooks on the murder board. "He's 150lbs of skin and bones, and close to fifty years old. You think he goes out in the morning and lies in wait for a six foot five high school athlete?"

"Let me tell you something, Ryan." Castle said, with conviction, "If someone did to Alexis what Jason Williams did to Rebecca Brooks, I'd kill them, without a second thought. And I wouldn't feel a moment of regret over it."

Ryan stopped, mouth hanging open, reply dead on his lips. He glanced at Beckett and Esposito, and saw he wasn't going to get back up from either. "Right, yeah, I guess it's possible." He said, weakly.

Beckett was studying Rick intently, her expression inscrutable. Then she turned to Esposito and said, "Brooks' alibi is a little soft. He said he was out jogging, alone, then dropped by the local store to chat to the owner. We're going to have to look into it."

Esposito nodded grimly. "Ok. What about the gun?"

"I don't think the gun's going to help us too much right now. We'll keep looking for motive and opportunity." She glanced at Rick, warily.

He barely noticed, having distracted himself with dark and unwelcome thoughts. _Brooks could have killed that kid. Easily. And I don't blame him one bit._

Beckett continued. "You interviewed some of the vic's friends this morning, right?" Esposito nodded and pointed at a stack of statements on his desk.

"None of them saw him that morning, but once we convinced them we didn't give a damn about whatever crap they snorted up their noses, they did confirm he was a regular coke user."

"America's future star, huh?" Beckett rolled her eyes as she said it.

"Right. A real prince. Anyway, they gave us the name of his dealer. Goes by D-Fence." He sniggered briefly.

"Seriously?" Beckett asked, close to laughing herself. "And people don't laugh in his face?"

"Well, maybe they did in the past. But the three convictions he's got for aggravated assault and possession of unlicensed firearms might have dissuaded them. Real name's Derrick Fenchurch. We got an address."

"Right, well let's pay him a visit. He sounds like the ideal suspect." She shot an apologetic look at Rick. "And we'll check Castle's theory after we've spoken to… D-Fence." Rolling her eyes again, she turned on her heel and headed for the elevator. Esposito followed.

Ryan hung back for a second, and spoke in a low voice. "Hey, Castle, I didn't mean anything just then. I mean, you know far more than me about what people might do for their children…" He trailed off, looking lost.

Rick clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it, buddy. I'm sorry I snapped. Now come on, or those two will have all the fun." Ryan smiled gratefully and they trotted to catch up to the others.

* * *

Their destination was a dingy apartment block, and Rick looked up at it, imagining all manner of seedy activities going on within. "Nice place." He told Beckett, airily. "I've been thinking about relocating. This looks like prime real estate, to me."

"Well, don't expect me to come around for dinner, then." She answered, peering up at the building dubiously.

"Oh, so you'll come around if I stay in my current place?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and she smiled.

"Play your cards right, Rick, and I might just."

He was determined to restore his good mood, after the unsettling day he'd had so far. "How about we start off slow." She looked at him, trying to figure out where he was going with this. "Let's grab some dinner after work. Just the two of us. My treat."

She stared at him. "You're asking to buy me dinner?" At his answering nod, she ducked her head, looking almost shy. "I'd like that. Ok, Castle, but nowhere fancy."

"Whatever you like, Kate." He was over the moon. Grabbing a bite to eat together was nothing new, but him paying for her would be. "You pick a place."

"Right. I will." Her cheeks were bright pink again, and she hurriedly climbed out of the car, heading round to the trunk. He got out after her, and watched as she quickly and proficiently donned her bulletproof vest.

"You think we're going to have to shoot our way in?" He asked, scrabbling to put on his own, personalized, vest.

"I hope not, but I'm not taking any chances." She glanced over at Ryan and Esposito as they strode up, armed and armoured already. "Ok, let's try softly-softly first, but if this guy's rap sheet is any indication, he could be trouble."

They followed her into the apartment block, single file, with Castle at the back, trying desperately to look like he knew what he was doing. It was times like this that he was secretly glad they wouldn't let him near a gun. He was so nervous that he'd just as easily shoot himself in the leg as take down a hostile target.

They quickly proceeded up to the second floor, to the suspect's apartment, meeting only a shocked old woman in the corridor. She retreated into her apartment, slamming the door firmly. Beckett stopped in front of a door, and hammered on it with her best 'I'm armed and pissed off' knock. "Derrick Fenchurch, this is the police. Open up." They waited. Silence. She tried again "Mr Fenchurch, if you do not open the door, we'll break it down." Still nothing, and Beckett nodded at Esposito, who took a step back, and kicked the door heavily. It tore away from the damp infested frame, and swung open.

"Awesome." Castle muttered, seriously impressed, and watched as the three police officers burst in. He never got tired of watching this, the way they checked and cleared a room within seconds. The cold, clinical efficiency was seriously impressive. And Kate Beckett, in badass mode, was one of the most exciting things Rick had ever seen. He watched her from the doorway. _So hot!_

They gave the all clear, and Castle strolled in, peering about with interest. The apartment looked even worse than the building exterior had hinted. Dingy, moldy, peeling wallpaper and stained, tatty furniture. "I love what they've done with the place." He breezed. "Condemned rat trap chic. Nice." Beckett shot him a tolerantly amused glance, and Ryan and Esposito drifted into the adjoining kitchen and bedroom.

Rick heard the door creak behind him, as it swung loosely on its hinges. Beckett heard it too, and half turned to look back. His blood went cold as he saw her eyes widen in alarm, and she started to raise her gun. "Castle! Down!" Her yell filled the apartment, and Rick started to move, but before he could take a step, he felt pain lance through the back of his skull, and the world went white.

* * *

It seemed to Kate like everything happened in slow motion. She heard the creak of a door behind her, and turned to look. Castle stood there, just inside the door still gazing around contemptuously at the grotty room. Behind him there was a figure emerging from a closet that they hadn't seen, that had been hidden behind the open door. He was tall, thick set, and holding what looked like a baseball bat.

"Castle!" She screamed, her arms coming up like they were pushing through molasses, trying to bring her gun to bear. "Down!" He stared, seemingly frozen, and all she could do was watch as that bat came down with a sickening thud on the back of his head. He dropped, boneless. For a split second, she stared in horror, and that was time enough for the man to fling the bat at her, and careen out of the apartment. "Stop!" She shouted, feebly as she dodged the oncoming missile, but he was gone.

Ryan bolted out of the kitchen, and leapt over Castle's prone form, charging after the man, bellowing loudly for him to freeze. Kate took what must have been her first breath since seeing Castle struck, and lurched across the room to land ungracefully on her knees at his side. He wasn't moving, and she reached a hand out to check for a pulse. It was strong, steady, and she breathed a sigh of relief. When she brought her hand away, it was bloody, and all she could do was stare at her fingers, which were starting to shake.

Esposito was suddenly beside her, urgently calling in an officer down, and requesting paramedics. He turned to Kate, trying to get her attention, and had to resort to shaking her. "Kate! What happened?"

_He never uses my first name, _she thought, absently. He shook her again, and repeated his question, and she snapped out of the daze. "There was a guy in that closet, he hit Castle with a bat and took off."

"Ryan went after him, right?" She nodded, and Esposito grunted, obviously torn between chasing his partner and dealing with the situation right in front of him.

"Go. Ryan might need your help." Her voice still sounded weak, but she was quickly regaining her composure.

"He's a big boy." Esposito said, confidently. "He'll be fine." He looked down at Castle, who still hadn't moved. "Bad gash on his head, there. They bleed like a bitch. It doesn't look too serious." Glancing over at the weapon used, he relaxed. "Aluminum bat. Lucky it wasn't wood, he'd have a fractured skull, for sure."

"He still might have!" Kate replied, hotly. "We should have seen it, should have checked properly…." She trailed off, frustrated beyond words. "Dammit. What am I going to tell his mother? What do I tell his daughter?"

"Hey. Look at me." Esposito reached out and cupped her face with his hands, forcing her to look at him. "He's fine, he's going to be just fine. Kate, trust me."

She nodded, her eyes wet, and she dashed a hand across them angrily. _Don't cry, you stupid girl!_ She admonished herself. _He'll just have a headache and a few stitches. That's all._ Her hand reached out, and she ran her fingers through his hair, now sticky with blood. _Why hasn't he woken up?_

As though he'd heard her thoughts, Rick Castle groaned faintly, and shifted, trying to raise his head. Kate's heart skipped a beat, and she scooted closer. "Rick, can you hear me? Are you ok?"

"Kate?" His voice was weak, dazed. "Wha' happened?" His lifted a hand to the back of his head, and she saw him wince in pain. "Feels like I got shot. Did I get shot?"

"No, he hit you with a bat. Cracked you in the head."

"Like a piñata?"

A desperately relieved laugh bubbled up. "Yeah, like a piñata." She stroked his back comfortingly. Esposito smiled at his friend, still with his cheek pressed to the floor.

"Come on, partner, let's get you into a more comfortable position." He reached down and set his hands under Castle's arms. "Beckett, can you help me?"

She nodded, and together they hefted Castle into a sitting position, and propped him delicately against the wall. His eyes were glazed, and he winced again in pain. "Ow." Touching the back of his head softly, he then examined his hand. "Bleeding. Bleeding my own blood."

Esposito laughed quietly. "Well, who else's could you be bleeding?" He quickly checked Castle over for any other injuries, and stood, poking his head out of the door.

Kate just knelt on the floor, staring at Castle helplessly. She felt foolish, having first hesitated and let the attacker get away, and then she'd been completely useless and Esposito had to take over. She reached out and rested her hand against Castle's cheek. He smiled vacantly, and leaned into her touch slightly.

"Hey look at that, here comes wonder boy now. Ryan, that's a big fish you caught there." Esposito sounded gleeful, and sure enough, Ryan appeared in the doorway, shoving the attacker, arms cuffed behind his back, ahead of him roughly.

"Sit down." He said firmly, and propelled the man onto the couch. "You ok, Castle?"

"'M jus' fine, Ryan. Everythin' went all bendy, but 'm ok now."

"Yeah, you sound just fine." Ryan watched him with concern for a moment, then turned back to the man he'd apprehended. "This delightful specimen is Derrick Fenchurch."

"Nice to meet you, Derrick." Esposito said, coldly. "Good of you to welcome us so heartily into your home."

"Hey, fuck you man." Derrick spat, sneering. "I never wanted no cops in here. I never done anything."

"No? How about resisting arrest and assault with a weapon?" Esposito retorted. "And that's just for starters."

Kate tried to listen to the exchange, but her eyes kept straying back to Castle. _He's not lucid, _she realized, her worry growing. _What if that hit did some real damage?_ He was still smiling at her, dopily.

"Hey, Kate, 'Espo…Esp… Spozzie called me 'partner'. Why don't you ever do that?"

She laughed, a brittle sound, and stroked his hair back from his forehead. "You really think I need a partner who gets taken out by a mere baseball bat to the head?"

"I'm a good partner. Bring you coffee, make you happy. We should do more partner stuff."

"We will." She assured him. "Just as soon as we get your brain checked out." She looked up at Esposito, "He's slurring his words, Javi." She said, needlessly, her stomach clenching. "And he's not lucid."

Esposito gazed at her reassuringly. "Don't worry. He'll be fine." He stopped for a moment, and they heard the sirens. "Here come the paramedics, now."

* * *

Kate strode along quickly, following the gurney down the corridor, trying to tell the doctor what was wrong. "He's not coherent, he's slurring words. I'm worried there may be a fracture." She was babbling, and some distant part of her was telling her to slow down and shut up, but she didn't seem to be able to listen. "Doctor…"

The man stopped, and turned to face her. "How long was he unconscious?"

Kate stared wildly for a moment, trying to think. "Err, a few minutes, I think. I don't know."

He nodded sympathetically. "Don't worry, detective. Your partner is in good hands." She watched urgently over the man's shoulder as they wheeled Castle into an exam room. He was peering about with idle, vacant interest, still no better than he had been when he first woke.

The paramedics had allowed her to travel with them in the ambulance, and if they'd thought it odd that she held his hand for the entire journey, they hadn't mentioned it. And now, she didn't want to let him out of her sight, but the doctor politely but firmly told her she would have to stay outside.

Esposito appeared behind her. "I'll call his mom." He said quietly.

That roused something in Kate, and she turned to look at him. "No. I'll do it." She drew herself up, and took out her phone. "Where's Ryan?"

Esposito looked at her quizzically. "He took Fenchurch in. Said he'd come over as soon as the guy was safely banged up."

Kate nodded and scrolled through her contacts until she found Martha's number. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the dial key. It seemed to ring forever, and she was about to give up, when it was answered, and she heard Martha Rodgers' educated tones. The conversation went past in a blur, but she managed to convey that Castle was hurt, but not too seriously. Martha told her she and Alexis would be there straight away, and hung up.

The waiting was interminable. It felt like she'd been there for hours, but a glance at the clock told her it had been a little over fifteen minutes. "Kate!" Martha's voice reverberated down the hospital corridor, and Kate looked up to see her and Alexis hurrying towards her. "What happened? Where is he?"

"He's in with the doctors," She told them, trying to find a tone of voice that would soothe them. She couldn't bear to look at the raw fear in Alexis' wide eyes. "He got hit on the head, he was out for a few minutes. We're waiting for the doctors to come and let us know what's going on."

Martha nodded, resolute, and wrapped her arm around Alexis' shoulders. "There, you see. He'll be fine. If there's one place your father could get hit without doing any lasting damage, it's his head."

Alexis tried to smile at that, but it wavered and faded before anyone would ever call it a smile. "Kate, is he ok? Really?" Those big blue eyes fixed on hers, and Kate felt the easy lie die on her lips.

"He's altered. Not really out of it, but groggy, dazed."

The two Castle women nodded at that, and Kate watched them, feeling sick with guilt. "I'm sorry." She told them, earnestly. "It was my fault, I should have checked the room more thoroughly."

"Oh, nonsense, Kate." Martha told her, decisively. "You know your job better than anyone, I have complete faith that you acted appropriately. It's my fool of a son who needs to learn some sense. Charging around after you, wearing that ridiculous vest of his. He should know his place."

Kate felt the perverse need to convince them that she was at fault, but as she opened her mouth to speak, Martha cut her off mercilessly. "I won't hear another word about it. Now, where's a doctor when you need one?" She glanced around imperiously.

As if summoned, the door of the exam room opened and the doctor exited, walking over to them with a soothing smile on his face. "Mr Castle should be just fine." He said, and paused whilst Alexis let out a quiet squeal of relief, and Kate released the breath she'd been holding. "He's got a bad gash on the back of his head, which we've sutured, and we're quite sure he's got concussion. We're sending him up for a CAT scan, and we'll want to keep him in overnight, to monitor him." He gestured towards the door. "We'll be talking him up in just a few minutes, but you can go in and see him if you like."

Kate almost leapt towards the door, but held herself back, watching as Martha and Alexis hurried for the door. _He should see family, first, _she reasoned, morosely.

Martha glanced back, and read the situation perfectly, as she always seemed to. "Kate? Come on, the doctor said we could go in." She held out a hand and Kate gratefully started forward, appreciating the motherly pat on her shoulder that Martha gave her.

Castle was sitting on the bed, grumpily pulling at the hospital gown he was now wearing. He looked up when they entered, and smiled broadly, though Kate noticed he was still not quite with it. "Hey, it's my womenfolk!" He greeted them jovially. "Come to see the fallen warrior?"

Kate raised her eyebrows questioningly at that. _His womenfolk? Me? A little presumptuous, Richard._ She chose not to say anything though. Not right now, anyway.

Alexis rushed to his side and wrapped her arms around him, carefully to avoid jostling him. "Dad, you idiot. How could you scare us like that?" She squeezed her eyes shut, and looked like she was holding on for dear life.

"Sorry, pumpkin," He did sound contrite, and rested his cheek against the top of her head. "I didn't mean to get whacked."

"No one ever does, Richard." Martha told him sternly, though Kate thought she saw a glimmer of relief in that patrician face. "You need to be more careful. How would you have felt if your great, clumsy lumbering had stopped Kate and the boys from doing their job? Hmm?"

Castle looked up at Kate. "I'm sorry, Kate." He said sincerely. "I didn't mean to get in the way."

Kate stared at him, lost for words for a moment. _He's apologizing to me? For being assaulted?_ It beggared belief. "Listen, Rick, you don't have to apologize for that. It wasn't your fault." She was about to start telling him how sorry she was, when Martha, clearly anticipating it, cut her off.

"That's quite enough of the blame game, I think. Richard, you need to behave yourself and let these people take care of you." She looked up as the orderlies entered the room, nodding vaguely at the occupants.

"Come on, sir," One of them said. "We need to get you up to CT. See if your head still works properly."

"Oh don't worry about that, gentlemen," Martha told them. "It's never worked properly."

Kate watched as they began to wheel him out. He turned and reached out, grabbing her hand. "Guess we'll have to take a rain cheque for tonight, huh?"

She blinked for a moment, unable to recall what he meant. _Dinner. Oh. _She felt a keen sense of disappointment, followed by a brand new wave of guilt over her selfishness. She smiled at him. "Don't worry, Rick. There'll be other nights. Besides, I need to get back to the precinct and interrogate Fenchurch.

The orderlies wheeled him out, with Alexis and Martha trailing afterwards. Kate watched them go, and smiled when Alexis turned to give her a quick wave and a look of gratitude.

* * *

Kate was feeling tired, run down and stressed out. Fenchurch had proved to be a dead end. He was meeting with his parole officer at 7am the morning Williams was shot, on the other side of the city. He had given them information on who Williams spent time with, who took drugs with him. And he'd also confirmed he no longer owned a gun, which a search of his apartment had verified. Dead end.

Still, she was going to enjoy nailing him to the wall for what he'd done to Castle.

She'd not been able to stop thinking about him all day. About the fear that had taken hold of her when she saw him lying motionless on that rough wooden floor, and how she'd come so close to panicking when she realized he was altered.

The last time she'd been that scared had been when Dick Coonan held a gun to Castle's back, and she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he'd pull the trigger, on the slightest provocation. Just the thought of him being hurt was enough to make her queasy, and seeing his blood on her hands this afternoon had been almost too much to take.

_Stop it. He's fine,_ she told herself, thinking back to the cheerful, if slightly baffled Castle that she'd left in the hospital a few hours ago. She looked at her watch. _We'd be having dinner now, if not for Fenchurch._ When he'd asked her, she'd felt a small thrill run through her body, like goosebumps breaking out, but on the inside. Tingly.

Smiling softly to herself, she wondered when they'd get a chance to make good on those plans. _Odd, _she thought, _how thinking of food can make you smell it, almost taste it._ She looked up, and realized just why she was smelling food. She was walking past Remy's, the place where she had planned on taking Castle. _So I'm predictable, boring. So what?_ She thought defensively. Then, another thought struck her, and she walked towards the restaurant, an excited smile plastered onto her face.

* * *

Rick tried to get comfortable, rucking up the single solitary pillow he'd been given, taking care not to touch the achingly sore, raw gash on the back of his head. He was uncomfortable, he had a headache, the bed was too small and too hard, and he was hungry.

They'd brought him some hospital food, but it didn't look or smell like anything a human should consider eating. Still, he'd picked at it listlessly, before giving it up as inedible. He thought back over the day, much of which was a hazy, blotchy blur. He recalled flashes of Beckett's concerned face. Concerned for him. And Esposito glaring down, angry, but not angry at him.

He'd been told he had concussion, and had come to the conclusion that he didn't want it. It was unpleasant. He felt like his head was too big, his eyes were aching. Even his hair was aching._ This sucks, _he thought, petulantly.

Martha and Alexis had finally gone home, after him threatening to bang his head on the bedframe if they didn't. Though their irritated looks told him that he might have worn out the sympathy chip already, with his sullen behaviour. He was lying there, staring at nothing, resigning himself to a long, sleepless, unpleasant night.

He heard the door to his room opening, and ignored it, thinking it was yet another nurse, coming in to check on him. Then he caught it, a whiff of food. Real food. Slowly, carefully, he levered himself onto his back, and heaved up into a sitting position, to find Kate Beckett standing at the foot of his bed, a mischievous smile on her face. "Visiting hours are long since over, but my badge is better than an all access pass."

"Hi." He said, stupidly. "What are you doing back here?"

She lifted her arm, and he saw she was holding a bag that looked fit to bursting, and had the word 'Remy's' printed on the side. "You brought food?" He gasped, hardly believing his eyes. "Real food?"

"Yeah, well, I decided I didn't want to take a rain cheque after all. Only this dinner's on me. You can get it next time." She smiled warmly, very warmly, and pulled up the bedside chair. She glanced around, and found a tray that held a water pitcher on his bedside cabinet. She retrieved it, and set it on the bed next to him.

He watched in delight as she emptied the bag, item by item. "Burger, fries, cheesecake. And a chocolate milkshake." She told him, proudly. "I know the setting may not be up to your usual standard." She looked around. "I mean, it's clean, but there's not a Michelin Star to be seen."

Rick grinned happily. "Are you kidding? This is great." He looked at her, feeling a sense of satisfaction, of completion that was previously undreamt of. "Kate, thank you. You're amazing." He meant it with all his heart, and as she gazed back at him, smiling happily, her eyes shining in the semi-darkness of the room, he felt all his aches and pains melt away. Even the rent on the back of his head was forgotten.

* * *

**A/N: **Again, no cliffhanger, just a bit of fluff. And yeah, I know the 'Castle gets hurt' idea isn't exactly original, but what the Hell. There are no new ideas, really, just old ones with a new spin on them.

Please read and review.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: **So in case you haven't noticed, this fic is taking the very loose shape of the ongoing show, in that cases will come and go, like the murders of the week, providing background for the growing relationship between our two heroes. This second case should be done and dusted within the next couple of chapters, and then I'll have to come up with a new one. Honestly, I think this is my biggest weakness, coming up with realistic, substantive ideas for a murder case, and then building on them. It's not what interests me particularly, and I know most of you certainly aren't reading for that stuff. Long story short, there might be a lull whilst I come up with something new.

* * *

**Chapter 15**

Kate knocked on the door and waited, eager to see him, after the second day of his enforced absence from the precinct.

Castle was still recovering from the concussion he'd suffered at the hands of Derrick Fenchurch, and doctor's orders had him laid up in his home, unable to work with them. She'd missed him, as pathetic as it seemed to say, after just a couple of days. Especially considering she'd dropped by the previous night after finishing work to see how he was doing, and had spent the whole evening with him and Alexis.

She smiled softly at the memory, recalling how he'd looked so forlorn in his sweatpants and t-shirt, bandage swathed around his head, as he listened to her recount her day. She and Alexis had resolved to pull him out of his funk, and they ended up playing Guitar Hero, which Kate didn't understand. It was nothing like playing a real instrument, merely a rhythm based game. When she'd pointed this out, he'd pouted like a toddler until she'd relented, and agreed to give it a try.

Kate's idle ruminations were cut short when the door opened, and Alexis beamed out at her. "Hi, Kate. How was your day?" She stepped aside to let Kate enter, and Kate smiled at the girl as she took off her coat.

"It was… long." She nodded decisively, that was the best word she could think of to describe it. "And not particularly productive. What about you? You finish school in a couple of weeks, right?"

"Yeah, just under three. I'm studying my ass off, and everyone else seems to have checked out already." She rolled her eyes, fully aware of the trivial nature of her teenaged drama.

Kate chuckled. "Well, it's always nice to be the one that's prepared."

Alexis's eyes widened. "That's what I always tell people, but they never believe me. Dad's been making fun of me over it. He's been like a bear with a sore head all day." She paused. "Which, I suppose he is, in a way."

"He's just bored." Kate said, though why she thought to reassure Alexis was a question she should ask herself later. She knew more about her father and his ways than Kate ever might. Still, the girl took no offence, merely nodding with a smile.

"He's up in his room, said he had a headache. Go up, he won't mind. In fact, I bet he'll be glad to see you." Kate tried to read any undertone into her statement. Castle had said that he didn't want to tell Alexis about the agreement he and Kate had come to, about the new understanding they'd reached. But at times, Kate was sure the teenager knew far more than she was letting on. Still, nothing of it showed in her face now, she was the picture of innocence. Kate nodded, and headed for the stairs, still watching for any knowing smirks, out of the corner of her eye.

As she reached the top of the stairs, she suddenly realised that she'd never been in Castle's bedroom before. She felt a rush of nerves, and immediately berated herself. _You're not fifteen, being in a male's bedroom is not a big deal._ She figured that the only room up there with the door closed had to be Castle's, and knocked lightly, not wanting to disturb him if he was resting.

She waited a few seconds, and then heard a muffled, "Who is it?"

"Castle, it's Kate. I just dropped by to see how you were doing."

"Kate, oh come in." She could hear him scrabbling around inside, and hesitated before opening the door. As she poked her head around it to peer into the gloom, she caught a sight that made her blush. Castle was standing, wearing only boxers, hurriedly pulling on a t-shirt. She knew she should avert her eyes, but was captivated. She'd never imagined him to be so… well built. His back was to her, and she only caught a quick glimpse, but the strong, solid shoulders and muscular torso were a surprise. A pleasant one. _Maybe I should have let him take part in the self defence class,_ she thought, staring.

He turned around, spotting her at the door, and smirked. "You taking to spying on me getting dressed, now?"

She flushed again, but attempted to match his saucy comment, leaning casually against the open door. "You're the one who asked me to come in. I didn't know you were such an exhibitionist, Castle."

He looked sheepish for a moment. "Yeah, my clothes were a little further away than I thought. I was just taking a nap." He glanced at her, and added, "Headache."

Kate nodded sympathetically, and wandered in. "Nice legs, by the way."

Castle looked down in surprise, and realised he was still only clad in boxers from the waist down. "Oh. Right." He hopped into the sweatpants he was holding, and looked up at her, smiling. "So, you just came to see how I was doing, then?"

"Yeah. I know what it's like to be cooped up, unable to do your job because of an injury. Thought I'd extend a sympathetic hand."

He looked at her, curiously. "When were you hurt?" Kate blinked, for a moment contemplating the many ways to interpret that question. He seemed to realise the ambiguity of it. "I mean physically. You know, unable to do your job. Like you said"

She looked at him for a long moment, turning over whether to tell him. In the end, she decided that she might as well. They needed to learn more about one another, and there were many things she was desperate to ask him, but couldn't think of a way to raise the issues. She shouldn't deny him the same opportunity.

"It was when I was still a regular cop. Walking a beat, uniform and all." She paused, as he grinned salaciously.

"Uniform? Please tell me you still have it."

Kate smiled tolerantly at him. "Maybe I do. But it'll be a while before you find out, Ricky boy. Now, do you want to shut up and listen, or do you want to perve over me?"

"I can do both at once." He told her, confidently. "Hell, I've had enough practice."

She fixed him with a patient gaze, and he subsided, indicating for her to continue. "Ok, so it was my second year on the force. I was teamed up with an older guy, O'Malley. He was a grizzled old vet, seen it all, done it all. You know the type." Castle was nodding, and she could see him mentally filing all of this information. "So, we're having a pretty normal day, when we get a call about a store robbery just a few blocks away from where we are. O'Malley's grunting and groaning about having to double time it to the scene, but we get there within a couple of minutes, and see two guys inside, with guns, and there's a woman down just in front of the counter."

Kate paused for effect, and saw that Castle was on the edge of his seat, like a small boy engrossed in an exciting story. "Anyway, O'Malley, as jaded and grumpy as he was, sees that these guys are amateurs. They're not watching the door, too caught up in yelling at the poor kid behind the counter to keep an eye out. He decides we should rush them."

"Oh, man." Castle breathed, eyes wide, seemingly realising what was going to happen.

"Yeah." Kate confirmed, the memories rushing back now. "So, we burst in, guns trained on the two guys. They stick their hands up, and O'Malley's just starting to eulogise about the way things are done by real cops, when the third guy, the one we didn't see, jumps out of an aisle behind us and starts firing." She cut off abruptly, seeing the incident in her head as though for the first time. She shuddered, and felt Castle's arm around her. She leaned into his warm, solid presence, just a little.

"Kate, you were shot?" It's half a question, half a disbelieving exclamation.

"Yeah, took two bullets. Shoulder and thigh. Luckily, they didn't hit anything important." She looked up into his eyes, finding comfort there. "Missed the femoral artery by less than two inches. I was out of action for six weeks. O'Malley wasn't so lucky. Hit in the neck. He lived, barely. But he never recovered. He died a few years back, not long after his sixtieth birthday."

"I'm sorry, Kate. I shouldn't have asked." He frowned into space, and she felt his hand stroking her upper arm, softly.

"It's ok, Castle. It was a long time ago. And these are the things that any cop has to risk. It's what makes us."

"Kind of makes my little bump on the head look a bit pathetic." She laughed softly at that, and patted him on the knee.

"You're a writer, your head's the only important part of you."

"That's not what you seemed to think, when you were watching me get dressed." He smirked at her, waggling his eyebrows in that way that made her want to smile.

"Shut up." The words had no heat, and she was trying desperately to keep a straight face. "Come on, let's go downstairs before Alexis thinks something untoward is happening." She stood, and reached out a hand, without thinking. He grasped it, and heaved himself to his feet.

"She'd be too polite to say anything." Castle grumbled, but he let Kate lead him out onto the landing, and towards the stairs. She remembered to let go of his hand before descending, and felt the heat in her face, as her eyes flickered in his direction. _Holding hands is becoming a habit. Maybe I was wrong before. Not fifteen. Twelve._

Alexis looked up as they wandered into the living room. "Hey guys, what's going on?"

"Nothing is going on, daughter." Castle said, ruffling her hair affectionately. He flopped down beside her on the couch, and pulled Kate down alongside him. She flushed again, worrying about Alexis's reaction, but the girl seemed not to notice. "What are you doing?"

"Well, I was studying, but I can see that's going to be futile, now you're venturing out of your lair again."

Castle laughed at that, and turned to Kate. "Hey, you escaped my lair unscathed not many women manage that, you know."

"Yeah? Not many women go in packing a gun, I suppose."

"No, but I do encourage the use of…"

He didn't get to finish. "Ew, dad, stop it. No one wants to hear your gross stories." Kate laughed aloud at this, and then even harder at the outraged look Castle gave her.

"I should make a recording of that, Alexis, so I can play it whenever he decides to regale us at work." Alexis laughed at that, and the three of the settled down, Castle somewhat sulkily.

They sat for a while, talking of various, inconsequential things. Alexis was excited about potential college destinations, and Kate was surprised when she talked so eagerly about Oxford. She glanced at Castle, and saw a rather pained expression on his face. It didn't surprise her, not when she recalled how her father had reacted when she told him she was planning to spend a semester in Kiev. She made a note to talk to Castle about it at some point, try to alleviate some of his concerns.

Castle himself wanted to talk about the case, which Kate avoided as much as possible, because she wanted to be sure not to exclude Alexis from the conversation. She liked the girl, and enjoyed spending time with her almost as much as she did with Castle.

After a couple of hours, Kate glanced at her watch, and realised she should be at home, sound asleep by now. They both protested when she said she should leave, but reluctantly agreed to release her. Alexis said goodbye in the living room, and discreetly withdrew into Castle's office, saying she wanted to find a book to read.

Castle walked her to the front door. "I do enjoy these visits of yours, detective. It's always nice to see you outside of work." He sounded sincere, and Kate felt the flippant response die on her tongue.

"It's nice to see you, too." She told him. "When do you think you'll be coming back to the precinct?"

"I can take this off tomorrow." He said, gesturing at the bandage still wrapped around his head, covering the stitched wound on the back of his head. "And I have a hospital appointment in the morning for a final check up. So I thought I might drop by in the afternoon. Just to say hello, you know, make sure you're not descending into anarchy without me."

Kate smiled. "Good. But don't think you're going to be doing anything other than sitting quietly until you're really better." A mischievous impulse took her, and before she could second guess herself, she acted on it. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his, a quick peck, and stepped back, biting her lip nervously, heat flooding her face.

He stared at her, lost for words, his mouth hanging slightly open. "Goodnight, Castle." She said, and backed away a few more steps, before turning on her heel and leaving. _I tell him to prove himself, and suddenly I'm the one who wants to jump him, _she thought, wonderingly, as she walked down the hallway, her lips still tingling slightly from the brief contact.

* * *

Rick strolled through the precinct, beaming. So far, everyone who'd recognised him had welcomed him back, with a friendly smile, and a few jibes about 'earning his stripes' or his 'red badge of courage', He'd never admit it, but he was truly touched that so many of the officers seemed keen to speak to him, and pleased to see him.

It seemed he might have underestimated how his time working in the 12th Precinct might be seen by these people. They were proud of the fact that, of all the police officers in New York, he'd chosen one of their own as worthy of writing books about. Not that he could fault them for that, he was mightily proud himself, that he was working with Kate Beckett.

He was lost in those thoughts as he hopped into the elevator. He heard someone call, "Hold that elevator," and absently, he pressed the button to hold the doors open. He glanced up to see who he was waiting for, and the one man in the precinct that he really didn't want to talk to stepped on, and did a slight double take when he saw Rick was the one holding it for him.

"Castle." Tom Demming said, with a polite, but forced looking nod.

"Demming." Rick replied, waiting vainly for someone else to get on and break the sudden tension. Unfortunately, there was no one in the lobby, and he could do little other than allow the doors to close. Clearing his throat slightly, he felt he should make an effort to be polite. "How have you been?"

"Fine." He said, shortly. "What about you? I hear you were wounded."

"Oh, not really wounded, I don't think. Just took a bump on the head. Getting in the way, as usual." Rick tried to inject some levity into his voice, but the atmosphere in the elevator was oppressive.

"Don't put yourself down, Castle. I heard you had to stay in hospital overnight. Kate must have been really worried, huh?" Demming gave him a sidelong look, the line of his jaw set firmly.

Rick laughed nervously. "Yeah, I guess. I can't remember too much of that, to be honest. It's all a bit of a blur." He shot a quick look at the elevator panel. _Can't this damn thing move any quicker?_

"So she's been nursing you back to health, then?" Rick narrowed his eyes slightly at that, trying to figure out where this was going.

"She's not really the nursing type." He answered, as noncommittally as possible.

Demming smirked as the doors opened on the Robbery floor. "No? She was pretty… tender… when we were together." He stepped off the elevator without looking back.

_Bastard!_ Rick thought, glaring venomously at the man's back. He realised he'd taken a half step after him, and stopped himself. The last thing he needed was to get involved in a brawl over Kate Beckett's honour. Especially when he was fairly sure she wouldn't appreciate such behaviour. He jabbed angrily at the button on the wall, waiting for the doors to close again. _Bastard, _he thought again, less heated this time. There was no mistaking the implication in Demming's words.

When the doors pinged open again, and Rick stepped out into Homicide, he was already stewing over what had just happened. He tried to force his irritation down before he walked into the bullpen, his previous good mood thoroughly soured.

"Hey, here's our wounded hero." Ryan greeted him as he rounded the corner, and Rick forced a smile onto his face, as Ryan and Esposito stood and greeted him with fist bumps and heartfelt slaps on the shoulder.

"Afternoon, guys. Have you been coping without me?"

"Oh, you know, we've done our best." Esposito said, smirking slightly. "Though there's only so much sitting around and doing nothing we can do to make up for your absence."

"Very funny." Rick retorted, feeling a little more cheerful again. "Look, I'm sorry if my manly injury in the line of duty has made you feel less macho, but I can't do anything about that, can I?"

His two friends glanced at each other, doing almost perfectly synchronized eye rolls. "Whatever, Castle." Esposito countered. "Just remember to duck when one of us tells you to, in future. If you get killed, it's going to mean a ton of paperwork, and none of us needs that."

"Duly noted, as is your concern for my wellbeing." He glanced around the room for a moment.

"Beckett's in with the captain." Ryan told him, apropos of nothing.

"Huh?" Rick tried to play dumb. "Oh right, I guess I should say hello to her whilst I'm here. I'll just go and wait for her."

"Yeah, why don't you do that." Esposito was smirking at him knowingly, and Ryan was shaking his head in an exaggerated fashion. "Not that you're desperate to see her, or anything."

Rick gave them both a dirty look and headed over to take a look at the murder board. He passed her desk, and resisted stopping to rummage through the papers that were stacked neatly next to her keyboard. He tried to busy himself reviewing the board, and saw that Winston Brooks was now considered a suspect. He didn't know how he felt about that. On the one hand, he was fairly sure that he was the guy, based on his gut feeling of revulsion over what had befallen the man's daughter. Yet on the other hand, he didn't feel a shred of pity for the murdered boy, and would want to applaud Mr. Brooks if it had been him who did it.

He was quietly absorbed, pondering this conundrum, when he caught a faint scent of cherries, and turned to see Beckett watching him. She had a soft, contemplative look on her face, and he smiled.

That kiss she'd given him, so brief that he half thought he'd imagined it, it was seared into his consciousness. So silly, to be reminiscing over such a thing, especially for someone with a reputation like his. Women kissing him was a commonplace event, and most of them tried to do far more with their lips than Kate Beckett had. He winced at the accidental implication there, and then quickly spoke, to avoid the images that were starting to form in his head, of Kate Beckett using her lips to do… stuff.

"Hi, Beckett. How's it going? What did the captain want?" He was babbling, and bit down on the words, eyeing her to see if she noticed. She did, of course, and raised her eyebrow quizzically.

"Everything's fine, Castle. The captain just wanted an update on the case. Nothing to be concerned about. What about you? The doctors gave you a clean bill of health, then?"

"Yep. Nothing wrong with this old thing." He rapped his knuckles lightly on the side of his head. "It takes more than a drug dealer with a baseball bat to put me out of action."

"Good to know." She said, brushing past him to move one of the pieces of evidence on the board. "Next time you're complaining about 'bleeding your own blood' I'll just let you get on with it, shall I?"

"What? Who else's blood could I be bleeding?"

She gave him a steady look, laughter dancing in her eyes. "That's what Esposito asked. You never did answer, though."

"Oh, I get it. Let's all make fun of poor injured Castle." He threw his arms up. "Go ahead, make your jokes."

"Well, either you're all better, and fair game for a few cracks, or you're not better, and should be at home. Make up your mind, Rick."

He did like it when she called him by his first name. Even more so when they were in the precinct, where she was usually so formal and professional. "I like you more when you're being nice to me." He told her, folding his arms petulantly.

"Of course you do, Rick." She answered absently, seemingly engrossed in scanning the information on her murder board.

He decided to give up his half hearted sympathy bid, and get down to business. "So, what's new with the case?"

Beckett glanced at him, and then back at the board. "Well, you were probably right about Brooks. The boys checked his alibi, but we're still waiting on the store's surveillance tapes. He may have had plenty of time to drive back from Manhattan. Lanie says time of death could still be between 6 and 8."

"So he'd have been cutting it fine, then." Rick said, thoughtfully. "But what about the jogging. He said he was doing that for that hour. Any witnesses?"

"No. But then, not many people up and about that early. Not in Westchester."

"Have you questioned him again?"

"No, not yet. I wanted to gather more info. And, to be honest, I wanted you here." She looked at him levelly, and he felt a surge of warmth flood through him.

"Really?" He asked, touched.

She rolled her eyes affectionately. "Don't go getting any ideas. I meant as a fellow father, someone who can extend that branch of understanding. If he thinks you're on his side, he might open up a bit."

Rick frowned, a vague feeling of discomfort welling up. "Kate, you do realise that I actually am on his side? A little."

She was still gazing at him. "I know. And I can understand why, but this is the job. We put our personal feelings aside and we catch murderers. And yes, we may feel crap about it afterwards, but that's what we do. And I know you can do it too."

He nodded slowly, mulling over what she'd just said, and feeling an irrational burst of pleasure that she was so confident in him. "I guess. Any luck with the gun, yet?"

It was Kate's turn to frown. "Not really. Esposito asked around, but no one knows of any other shootings with a similar weapon. Not recently, anyway. Fenchurch doesn't carry a gun, not since the last firearms charge." She paused. "Oh yeah, DA's pressing charges for assault and resisting arrest. Thought you'd want to know that."

Rick blinked, drawing a blank for a moment, before recalling that Fenchurch was the man who'd hit him. "Right. Good, then. Do you need anything from me? A statement or something?"

"We'll get something down later, but it's hardly going to be necessary. I mean, you didn't see anything, and the boys and I have already given them all they need to send him down. It probably won't even go to trial. Fenchurch's lawyer will try to plea bargain his way out of it. But this isn't his first offence, and there were drugs found in his apartment. He's going away for a long time."

Rick pursed his lips, trying to decide how he felt about that. He felt no sympathy for his assailant, but not having met or spoken to the man himself, he found he couldn't summon up the sense of satisfaction that usually accompanied catching someone.

His ambivalence must have shown on his face, because Beckett drew a little closer. "Are you ok?" At his nod, she relaxed, but then asked, "You're not feeling sorry for this guy, are you? Like you did with Jessup? Because let me tell you, Castle, Derrick Fenchurch is a nasty piece of work."

"No, I don't feel sorry for him. I guess it's just the first time that my involvement has sent someone to prison, and I've never even seen his face." He shrugged helplessly. "It just feels... weird, somehow."

"Right, well. I've asked Ryan and Esposito to pull Winston Brooks in for formal questioning. We've probably got an hour or two before they get here. Want to grab a bite to eat?" She sounded hopeful, and Rick broke out into a grin.

"Sure. I'd love to."

"But you're not paying for this one, Rick." She cautioned him hastily. "I'm not letting you get away with something from the diner after you promised dinner."

He laughed at that, feeling inordinately pleased at her assumption that there was still a dinner date to be arranged. _Not date, _he considered carefully. _Not yet, anyway. I'm going to let her call the shots, all the way._

_

* * *

_

They were sitting cozily in a window booth, feeling gorged on the meal they'd just devoured, and Rick knew they'd have to be going back up to the precinct soon. But for now, they had a few minutes to just sit, and let their stomachs settle. "So, I'm thinking that maybe you need to teach me some of the self defence stuff you're showing Alexis." He told her, his lips curved into a suggestive smile.

She rolled her eyes dramatically, but still smiled back. "Why's that, Rick? So no more desperate felons decide to use your head for batting practice?"

"Yeah, partly." He answered, the smile growing. "But partly because I'm probably going to need all the moves I can manage to keep Gina from killing me when she finds out about what happened."

Beckett frowned at the mention of his ex-wife. "Why should she care what happened. You don't even like each other, do you?"

"No, we don't, but if she hears that I ended up in hospital, and unable to write, she'd have a fit. And let me tell you, that woman really is something when she's pissed. I mean grown men hide behind locked doors."

"Grown men, or you?" She asked merrily, and he laughed again.

"Ouch! Now there's gratitude for you, I offer you my exclusive company for this lovely little meal, and you respond by casting aspersions on my manhood."

She shook her head at that, amused. "Your manhood could do with a humility check, if you ask me." She watched the grin spread across his face, and hurriedly added. "And if you're thinking of saying anything about me feeling free to check your manhood if I want, don't."

Rick raised his hands in defence. "I never dreamed of it. You've got a smutty mind, lady."

Beckett suddenly looked distracted, and nodded reluctantly at two men who stood at the counter. Castle glanced over, and recognized them as fellow cops. _Why's she so uncomfortable? Because of me?_ The thought was upsetting. _I thought she'd be used to other cops seeing her in my company, by now._ He had to ask, though. "You know those guys?"

She glanced at him, and then down at the table top. "Yeah." She answered, very reluctantly. "They um… They work with Tom." She looked up, and forced a smile onto her face, trying to look casual.

"Demming, right." Rick suddenly felt the anger from that elevator ride surge back. "I saw him today, by the way." He left it at that, not wanting to cast any judgments.

Beckett's eyes widened. "You talked to him?" Rick nodded, trying to look as though it was of no importance. But she wasn't buying it. "What did he say?"

"Nothing much." Rick tried, and her eyes narrowed now, suspicions aroused.

"What did he say?" She repeated, her voice taking on that quiet, intense quality that broke so many guilty people.

"He just said something about… You know what, it doesn't matter. Really."

"Rick, I swear to God, if you don't tell me what he said…" She stopped there, leaving the threat unspoken, as though she knew that his imagination could conjure up worse than she could ever suggest.

"Ok, fine!" He gave in. "He just made a crack about you being… tender… when you were with him." He found himself studying his empty plate, wanting to avoid seeing her reaction. But his eyes strayed up, treacherously. Her face was pink, eyes tight.

"Bastard!" The word was quiet, vehement in its fury. "That bastard. I'm sorry, Rick."

"Hey, nothing to apologise for. He said it, not you." He aimed for flippant, but knew he fell far short. _She's not denying it, _he thought, miserably. _I suppose I should be grateful for her honesty. _But the thought of her doing... that, with Demming made him feel distinctly queasy.

"No, not for what he said." She reached out and took his hand, forcing him to look into her eyes. They were glistening slightly, and Rick's heart skipped a beat at the emotion in them. "I'm sorry that any of that happened, that I didn't figure things out long before then."

He nodded, wondering how different things might be now if either of them had had the perspicacity to unravel their feelings before the likes of Ellie Munroe and Tom Demming had appeared in their lives. "I'm sorry too, Kate. But we can't change any of that. All we can do is move on, to better things."

She smiled in relief, and squeezed his hand slightly. "You're right. And in the spirit of that, you can take me out for dinner tonight. If you're feeling up to it, that is."

Rick grinned at her, delighted at her directness. "Oh, you just try and stop me."

* * *

**A/N: **Oh, and Castle will be making his big decision about the movie in the next couple of chapters as well. Just a little heads up.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **Right, so it's been a few weeks. Sorry about that. This one was a bitch to write. I've seen quite a few 'first date' scenarios in various Castle fics. Some of them very good. It's difficult to come up with a fresh way of dealing with it. Telling it from Castle's POV isn't something I recall seeing often, so I thought I'd give that a shot. Hopefully it works for you as well as a Beckett POV one would.

* * *

**Chapter 16**

Kate and Rick slowly made their way back to the precinct, after what had turned out to be a very enjoyable lunch. After the initial awkardness of Castle admitting that Tom had revealed more about their brief relationship than Kate would have liked, they'd settled back into an easy camaraderie.

_How could he do that? _Kate thought, her anger stirring again slightly as she thought back to the look on Castle's face as he realized that what Tom had been implying had, in fact, happened. Rationally, it wasn't any of Castle's business. She knew that. He had no more right to be upset about her relationship with Tom than she had to be upset about his previous relationships. But in reality, things weren't that simple. She knew that.

And Tom knew it too, which is why he'd made the comment he had. He knew how it would sink in and catch. _I know I didn't exactly cover myself in glory in that whole episode, but I didn't think Tom would be that petty._ She'd need to talk to him, she decided. Because right now, she was sure that things with Castle were going to progress quite soon, and neither of them needed her ex-boyfriend working in the same building, if he was going to pop up and make remarks like that every now and then.

Kate shook herself out of that reverie as they stepped off the elevator and back into the Homicide office. She belatedly realized that Castle had been as quiet as her on their walk back. She looked across at him now, and saw he was a million miles away. "Castle? You with me, here?" She watched him carefully as he jolted slightly, as though stung.

"Huh? Oh… yeah, of course I am." He attempted a smile, but it never reached his eyes. "Just thinking about what questions we're going to want to ask Winston Brooks." He lengthened his stride, moving ahead of her, and Kate rolled her eyes, quite sure that he was more than a little uncomfortable at the prospect of the coming interrogation.

"That's what you're thinking?" She caught up with him, watching his casual nod. "Look, Rick, I need you focused for this. I want you in the room, but if you think it's going to be a problem…" She trailed off.

He glanced at her, face carefully composed. "No problem, Kate. Really." She still wasn't convinced, but let it go. She could always pull him out of the room, if necessary.

As the walked into the bullpen, she saw Esposito and Ryan, slouched in their chairs, looking bored. "What's going on guys? You brought Brooks in?"

"Oh yeah, he's in the interrogation room now. Doesn't seem too out of sorts, considering this is the first time he's ever been brought in for questioning by the police." Esposito frowned slightly, and Kate nodded.

"Well, we don't know if he's got anything to be nervous about yet. Still no luck on finding the gun?" Esposito shook his head, frowning. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Castle wandering over to peek in through the interrogation room window. His mouth was set in a firm, almost disapproving line. She watched him as he glared through the window, and tried to read his mood. Kate knew this was a difficult case for him, that the revelations, first of the victim, and then of the poor girl, had really thrown him for a loop.

And now she was going to ask him to help her nail Rebecca Brooks' father. Kate sighed heavily, dragging her attention back to Esposito, who was leafing through the file he was holding. "We need to check his background more closely. Any relatives who served in South East Asia? Friends?"

Ryan, who had also been watching Castle, interrupted. "Boss, are you really sure this is our guy? I mean, he's got no history of…" Kate held up her hand, cutting him off. She appreciated his concern for Castle, but they could not let themselves get sidetracked and lose sight of their guy because they were worried about how their friend would take it.

"I know what you're doing, Ryan. I understand." Her glance took in both the junior detectives. "But if Brooks is our guy, then we have to get him. And there's only one way to do that." She waited for a moment, and then they both nodded in reluctant agreement. "Ok. So you two start checking for military connections, Castle and I will talk to Brooks."

Kate turned her back on them without another word, and took a deep breath as she made her way over to Castle, who was still staring morosely through the window at Winston Brooks. "Castle? You with me?" She craned her neck a little, trying to make eye contact.

Castle looked at her, his face still set in that same expression. "He's not nervous. At all."

Kate frowned. "What?"

"Brooks." Castle sighed. "He's not nervous. Just sitting there, with a little smile on his face." Castle kept his eyes on her as he asked, "In your experience, aren't people usually nervous? Even when they're innocent? You know, especially when they've got no criminal history?" He seemed to be waiting for Kate to disagree, but she couldn't.

"Castle… Rick, even those who put on a brave front in the interrogation usually show some nerves when they think they're alone." She looked into the room herself, and saw that Castle was right. Brooks just sat there, staring straight ahead, his lips curved into a small, almost smug smile. She shook her head slightly.

"He did it, didn't he?" Castle sounded so morose that Kate wanted to wrap her arms around him and hug him. Instead, she sighed again, and nodded.

"I think he did. But we still need to prove it. Come on."

They'd been in the room for about twenty minutes, and Kate was starting to get frustrated. Brooks answered each question with a benign shrug and throwaway comment. She was starting to wonder whether they'd all seriously misjudged this man. His cool seemed unflappable.

She could feel Castle standing behind her. He'd spent maybe the first five minutes in the chair alongside her, before retreating to lean against the observation room window. And he'd not said a word, so far. Kate hadn't asked him to, hoping that she could get Brooks to talk without having Castle appeal to the man as a father. It was a gamble anyway, with just as much chance of having the opposite effect than was desired. But even more so, she wanted to do this without Castle's active participation. She wanted to protect him from that, as foolish as it seemed.

She tried again. "So, Mr. Brooks, what did you think when we told you that Jason Williams had been murdered?"

He laughed, short and bitter. "Like I told you at my house, detective, I was glad. I don't feel sorry for his death one bit. He was a spoiled, selfish little bastard."

"And what about his parents? Did you feel sympathy for them? Pity?" Kate didn't really know where she was going with this line of questioning, but she was just looking for some sort of weakness, so vulnerability.

Brooks frowned slightly, and looked down at the table top. "Yes, I did. No parent should lose their child. But they should have raised him better, so he didn't have such a sense of entitlement that he felt he could just take what he wanted, even if…. Even if it wasn't freely given." There was a catch in his voice, and Kate leaned forward, sensing blood.

But before she could say anything, Castle was suddenly stood next to her. "You were angry about that, weren't you?" Castle asked, his voice low. "Jason Williams committed a crime against your family. Against your daughter. And he was not punished for that crime."

Brooks looked up, anger written on his face. "No, he wasn't. The evidence was there, my daughter's testimony, even a couple of witnesses who were there afterwards, when she was distraught. But the school pulled strings with the police. Didn't want their golden boy to lose his future, did they?" He spat the words bitterly, and Kate tried to hold still, as if the tiniest movement might shock him back into indifference.

Castle continued. "So they convinced the witnesses that Rebecca was just drunk, and upset because the boy had slighted her." He barely waited for Brooks' confirmation before continuing. "And someone tried to talk to Rebecca, didn't they? Tried to get her to admit it had been consensual. Was it Osbourne?"

"That slimy little toad!" Brooks was red in the face now, his anger taking over. "He insinuated that Rebecca was just drunk, and went looking for sex with Williams. And he spoke to the police, I know he did. Suddenly, they were talking about how hard it is to find someone guilty of rape, that it was just her word against his, and maybe she should just think about whether she really wanted to go down that road." Castle nodded encouragingly.

"So all of a sudden, she's got no one in her corner. The school doesn't believe her, the police don't believe her, even the people who know what happened have had second thoughts. How angry she must have been. How angry you must have been."

"You're damn right I was angry! And then, people at school started saying things. Whispering, sniggering behind her back. She goes from victim to false accuser, just like that. You're a parent, Mr. Castle, you tell me, how would you feel if it was your daughter?"

Castle leaned forward, face grim. "I'd be furious. Out of my mind with anger. I can't even imagine what it must have been like. I can't imagine what I might do."

"Yeah! And then, imagine your daughter on anti-depressants, unable to sleep, unable to do anything but walk around like a zombie. Like all the life's been sucked out of her." Brooks stifled a sob, his hand coming up briefly to cover his face. "She had so much to live for, and that son of a bitch took it all away."

"Only, nothing had been taken from him, had it?" Castle retorted, leaning over the table now, almost eager. "He wasn't going to be punished by the authorities. No prison for him, just a full scholarship to the college of his dreams. Set for life, the brightest future one could hope for. Tell me, where's the fairness in that?"

"Exactly! That's not fair. He should have paid for what he did. My little girl, she couldn't even live with it. So why should he?" Brooks was almost shouting now, and Kate could only sit and watch. She realized she was holding her breath, and let it out as quietly as possible, not wanting to remind the two men of her presence.

"And you don't think Jason Williams felt terrible about what he did? Guilty?"

Brooks sneered. "Kids like that, they don't feel anything for anyone but themselves."

Castle nodded, matching Brooks' tone. "They think they're the centre of the universe, that whatever they want should be given to them. Makes you just want to… show them just how small they truly are. Doesn't it?"

Brooks nodded, tears starting to trail unchecked down his cheeks. "He deserved to die! If there's such a thing as Hell, he's there right now, and he knows just how insignificant he is."

"And you put him there," Castle said quietly, forcefully, his eyes locked onto those of Winston Brooks.

The man jerked, as if stung, staring slack-jawed at Castle. He blinked a couple of times, and then turned his gaze to Kate. She realized she'd been holding her breath, and let it out, waiting for him to answer.

After a long moment, he spoke. "I never said that. I never admitted anything," he said, desperation clear in his voice. "And you can't prove anything. My lawyer should be here soon, and then we'll see what happens." His face was still red, eyes still wet, but he'd regained his composure.

Kate sagged in her chair. _So close, _she thought, glumly. _He was so close to getting that confession. _She turned to look at Castle, and saw he was still staring at Brooks, seemingly lost for words. "Ok. We're going to take a break. You can stay here, Mr. Brooks." She stood, and had to poke Castle in the shoulder to get him to respond. He came to his feet quickly, and a trifle unsteadily, and headed for the door without a word. Kate followed him, closing the door again after them.

Castle leaned heavily on a desk, and shook his head. "You ok, Castle?" she asked, watching him with concern. "You looked like you were getting a little… carried away in there."

He answered without looking at her. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thought I had him, you know?" His voice was thick with emotion, and Kate reached out to stroke his back comfortingly, but stopped herself just in time, remembering they were standing in a fairly busy office.

"You did a great job, Castle. So he didn't quite break, sometimes they don't. Sometimes you have to build the case without a confession."

He turned to look at her then, his expression slightly pained. "Yeah? And how do we do that? All we've got is circumstantial evidence. He had motive, his alibi is weak. But there's no smoking gun."

"Not yet," a voice called from behind Kate. She turned and saw Esposito marching up, a triumphant grin on his face. "Winston Brooks has an older brother. Carlton Brooks. Lives in Ohio, runs a small book store. And get this, he fought in the Vietnam War."

"What?" Kate stared, not believing their luck. "So you're going to tell me that this Chinese pistol was issued to North Vietnamese fighters, then?"

"Yes it was. Chinese and Russian weapons by the boatload." He sounded thoroughly pleased with himself, and Kate felt like sharing his grin.

"So, now we can link Winston Brooks to the weapon. But we still don't actually have the weapon, nor do we know if Carlton Brooks ever owned such a gun." She turned to look back at Castle, who was watching them with an odd expression. "See, Castle? We find a way, even if Brooks won't break."

He nodded, without speaking. Kate narrowed her eyes, suspicious of his sudden change in demeanour. "You still want him to be innocent, don't you? Or rather, you don't want him to be caught."

"Kate… it's just… I do have a daughter, and I do believe I could be capable of doing what he did, under those circumstances. It's a difficult thing to get my head around. I'm just gonna need some time to come to terms with it."

Kate nodded, "ok, Castle. That's alright. We're going to keep Brooks in there until his lawyer gets here. He'll probably be out soon enough, though. Meanwhile, Esposito, you call the police in Ohio, get them to speak to Carlton Brooks. There's a chance he has no knowledge of his brother's actions." At Esposito's dubious look, she added, "we might get lucky. Go."

She watched him as he hurried to his desk, then turned to look at Castle. "Castle, go home." It wasn't until she'd said the words that she realized how harsh they sounded. He looked wounded, and more than a little angry.

"Wait, you're kicking me out? Just because I'm not some cold blooded…" He trailed off, chagrined, for which Kate was glad.

_Cold blooded? _That hurt. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then forced a benign expression onto her face. "Castle, that's not why… I didn't mean…. Look, we're not going to achieve much more here today, and you aren't in a great place right now. Go home, clear your head. We start again tomorrow."

He just looked at her blankly for a moment, then simply said, "Fine." And turned on his heels. Kate felt her heart skip a beat, and quickly called after him.

"Castle, wait," she took a step towards him, ignoring the questioning look on his face. "Aren't you forgetting something? Something you agreed to do?"

He cocked his head slightly, clearly baffled by the question. "What…?"

Kate smiled, lowering her voice for him alone. "Pick me up at eight. And wherever you're choosing, make it casual. I'm not dressing up for you."

His expression cleared, and a small smile graced his lips. "Ok, jeans and a shirt it is. But be warned, I _will _make you dress up for me one day." His tone made it clear that the double meaning was very deliberate, and Kate felt her cheeks burning. "I'll see you at eight." With one last heated smile, he left.

* * *

"Hey, Alexis, which shirt goes best with these jeans?" Rick called out, holding up two shirts for her inspection. She eyed them both critically, before eventually pointing at the dark blue one.

"That one, I guess. Though they're both ok. Dad, you're not this bad at dressing yourself. Nervous? Where are you going, anyway?"

He'd been avoiding the question all evening, still not sure how to broach the subject of he and Beckett to his daughter. She was just as enamoured of Kate Beckett as Rick was himself, though obviously for different reasons, and he didn't want to get the girl's hopes up too soon. If things eventually proceeded like he wanted them to, they'd have plenty more nights like the last couple, when Beckett had dropped in and spent time with them. But if they didn't, well, he'd always ensured that Alexis wasn't in a position to be hurt by the fallout of any of his relationships, other than that ill-advised second foray into marriage, and he wasn't about to start now.

Still, she was looking at him with an air of expectation, and growing impatience. He had to say something. "Just going to dinner with a friend, that's all."

If he hadn't been watching so closely, he might have missed the flicker of annoyance on her face. It was gone as soon as it appeared. "A hot date? Who is she this time, model, actress or socialite?"

Rick winced at the casual disdain in Alexis's voice. He recognized that it was disdain for the probably date, not for him, but it still hurt. "It's not a date, Alexis. Like I said, a friend."

She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing him. "If it's just a friend, why would you be worrying so much about the colour of your shirt? Come to think of it, what friend? The only people you seem to speak to these days are cops, your agent or those movie people."

He frowned at that. "I have friends." His voice came out a little too wheedling and needy for his liking. "What about my poker buddies, huh? Both sets, writers and politicos?"

"Yeah, I can really see you worrying about coordinating your clothes for James Patterson, dad." She snorted, and fixed him with a level gaze. "So, who is it?"

He gave up, she was going to ferret it out of him one way or the other, anyway. "If you must know, it's Detective Beckett."

"Kate? Oh my God, that's awesome…"

He rode right over her excited gushing. "It's not a date, Alexis. It's not. It's just two friends having a meal together. We'll probably be talking about our current case. That's it, ok?"

Alexis looked at him, not even bothering to hide her amusement, and her excitement. "Sure dad, whatever you say. Have fun with your 'friend'."

He fixed her with a fatherly glare that had absolutely no effect, then gave up. The slight queasiness he was feeling was enough to confirm to himself that this was not just dinner between friends. Or at least, he hoped it wasn't. Glancing at the clock, he realized he'd need to get a move on if he were to be on time. Usually, he wouldn't think anything of being ten minutes late, but he really wanted to get this right, all the way down the line. _It may not be a date, technically, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try to impress her._ He scurried back into his room, ignoring the amused look Alexis leveled at him.

* * *

Less than twenty minutes later, he was walking down the hallway to Kate Beckett's new apartment. He'd only been there once before, briefly, to help her move in. He hadn't been impressed with the place then, and that disappointment was returning now. He knew Beckett herself wasn't particularly happy with where she was living, and considered it temporary. She'd not told him as much, but he was quite sure that the main thing keeping her in this crappy place was the price of rent in Manhattan. _I may have to ask around, see if I can find her a deal, _he thought, uncomfortably aware that doing so could easily annoy her far more than staying in this place would. _I'll do it carefully._

He'd decided to buy some flowers on the way over, despite his protestations to Alexis that he wasn't going on a date. No reason to waste an opportunity to do something nice, he reasoned. After a few minutes of deliberation, he'd chosen red carnations. He didn't want to go for broke first time out, after all. Stopping in front of her door, Rick paused to compose himself, glancing down to check his jacket for lint, and took a deep breath. He knocked firmly, and took a step back.

"Just a minute," he heard Kate call from inside, and smiled at the slight panic he heard in her voice. _So much for me being late._

In what he judged to be less than a minute, she opened the door and peered out at him, smiling. "Hi. Come in, I'll be ready in a second." She stood back and held the door open as he stepped into the apartment. Rick glanced around at the interior, amazed at how she'd transformed the place. It seemed warm, homely, which was very strange, considering she probably spent less than half of every day in the place. After that brief perusal, he turned his attention to the woman herself, and felt his heart skip a beat. "Wow, you look amazing," he told her, without thinking. She did. Wearing a snug pair of black jeans and a red scoop neck shirt, she'd teased her hair into curls, like those she'd worn that day at the precinct when he'd seen her kiss Demming. The reminder was unwelcome, but he realized that she'd made this effort for him, and that bathed his heart in a deep warmth. He realized he was just staring, and cleared his throat. "Um, here, these are for you." He held out the flowers, feeling like a teenage boy again.

She smiled softly. "Thank you, Castle." She took the flowers and held them to her nose, inhaling the scent. "I'll just put these in water and we can go." She headed into the kitchen, and Rick sagged a little. He was feeling more than a little under pressure, already. That agreement they'd made, not even a couple of weeks ago, that he had to convince her he was a risk worth taking, that they could really have a chance, it was preying on his mind. What if he made a mistake tonight? What if he misread something?

That train of thought was derailed when Kate returned, still smiling. "Ok, ready to go?"

"Yeah, sure." He tried to shake off his misgivings and crooked his arm out. She took it without hesitation.

"So, where are we going?" Kate asked, he hand straying up to twirl an errant lock of hair.

"Oh, it's a surprise," Rick answered loftily, earning a pretty little pout from her. "There's a taxi waiting outside."

Rick was conscious of her eyes on him as they sat in the back of the taxi. It was a thoroughly enjoyable feeling, to be the sole object of her scrutiny. _Unless she's in cop mode, of course_, he considered, amused.

"What are you grinning at, Castle?" Kate asked, a smile playing on her own lips.

"Oh, nothing." He answered, grinning wider at the exasperated look on her face.

"You know, Castle, someday soon you're going to have to give me a real answer when I ask that question."

"I'll keep that in mind, Kate." Before she could give voice to the mild irritation he saw on her face, the taxi stopped. "Oh, look at that. Here we are, what wonderful timing." He snickered quietly, handing money to the driver, and hopping out to quickly trot around and open Kate's door.

As she stepped out, she eyed him tolerantly. "I'll let the door holding slide, this time, Ricky. Now where have you dragged me to?"

Rick smiled playfully, and took her hand. "Come on, it's just a couple of blocks. I hope you like Greek food."

Kate quirked an eyebrow, intrigued. "Can't say I've had too much experience, really. I'm sure it'll be more than acceptable, though."

Rick certainly hoped so. He'd been to this place a couple of times with Alexis, and the food had been amazing. Fantastic quality, but straight forward and served without any frippery. Now, Rick didn't mind ostentatious preparation, but he was quite sure Kate would prefer something relatively frill free. The atmosphere in the place had been intimate but not overpoweringly so, and laid back.

He led Kate up to the front door, and risked a glance, to see if first impressions were favourable. There was a light in her eyes, an excitement that he hadn't seen before. "After you, Kate," he said, holding the door for her again, grinning insolently."

"Don't push your luck, Castle," she told him, and strode past him. He hurried to catch up, and quietly informed the pretty young woman who welcomed them of his name, and their reservation.

The girl did a double take when she heard his name, and fluttered her eyelashes appealingly. He barely noticed, unable to keep his eyes from straying back to Kate. With a start, he realized that the girl was gesturing for them to follow her. He also realized that Kate was watching him, a look of wry amusement on her face. "Oh, yeah, sorry." He laughed awkwardly, and followed the girl to their table, listening to her chatter about the specials and about how amazing a writer she thought he was.

He coped with it pretty well, all things considered. Listening to a girl who could only be four years older than his own daughter flirt with him whilst the woman he was trying to impress watched and listened, could not be anyone's idea of a good time. Still, Kate seemed very gracious about it, and even favoured the girl with a brief smile as she sat down. Then she looked at Rick. "Wow, Castle. Does that happen on all your dates? Pretty young thing offering herself on a platter? No wonder your relationships last about twenty minutes."

"Hey, come on, that's not fair. Most of my relationships are at least a few hours." He paused, and leaned in, lowering his voice. "I am sorry about that, sometimes a tabloid reputation can follow you around when you least want it."

"Oh, I'm sure it's a great inconvenience. Luckily, I know you better than she does." A touch of contempt drifted into her tone at that, and Rick thought it best to change the subject.

"So, what do you think of the place?"

Kate looked around again, nodding slightly. "Very nice, Rick. Classy, but quiet. I thought you liked loud."

"Well, loud has its uses, I'll admit. But sometimes, you just want something peaceful, you know? What am I saying, of course you know." She laughed at that, and he relaxed a little.

"So you've been here before, then?" Kate asked, casually, and pursed her lips when he nodded. "Anyone I know?"

_Danger, Will Robinson,_ Rick thought, eyeing her carefully. _And she's supposed to be good at interrogations._ "Oh yeah, I think you might know her. Young, beautiful, intelligent. Likes to call me 'dad'."

Kate laughed again at that. "You'd better be talking about Alexis there, Castle, or that's just too gross for words."

He grinned again, relishing in the sound of her laughter. It wasn't something he'd heard an awful lot until recently. She usually kept a tight rein on her emotions, but he'd become awfully good at provoking reactions. "Don't worry, Kate, I'm talking about Alexis."

She sobered, eyes wide and inquisitive. "So, you've never brought another date here? Why not?"

"Honestly?" She nodded, and he decided to take a chance. "Because most of them expect the Richard Castle they read about in the gossip columns. Brash, loud, extravagant. Fancy women and fancy destinations." He caught her gaze in his own. "I don't have to do that with you, do I?"

For a moment, she didn't answer, just looked at him with those dark eyes. "No. You don't." She glanced down at the table top, clearing her throat self consciously. "Actually, I heard from a little bird that the 'brash, loud, extravagant' Richard Castle isn't quite as real as you'd have people believe."

"Really? A little redheaded bird, no doubt." Rick shook his head slightly, wondering just how Alexis had ended up sharing _that _piece of information.

"It was an anonymous source, Rick. You should know better than to ask."

"Hmm, well I'll subpoena the witness statement tomorrow. Until then, let's order." He signaled the waitress over, the same girl as before, and she simpered at him again as he ordered. Kate briefly scanned the menu and relayed her choice to the waitress, a fixed smile on her face.

When the girl left them again, Kate said through gritted teeth, "That does get annoying, actually. What am I, invisible? Where does she get off, throwing herself at someone who's clearly in the company of another woman?"

"Well, maybe she thinks three's company." He suggested teasingly, earning himself a withering look. "Ok, it's just par for the course. She didn't give me a second look until she recognized my name. It's a celebrity thing, it's not real." He shrugged, indicating that Kate should just let it go.

"I guess you'd be the expert on things not being real." Kate said, cryptically. Rick frowned, trying to decipher her meaning, and she decided to enlighten him. "How many times have you bragged about the women you picked up in the park, or at the museum, or at the top of the Empire State Building?" She asked, accusingly. "And now it turns out you were full of shit. What, did you think that stuff impressed me?"

"What? No. Why would I think you'd be impressed by that?"

"Well, why say it then?" She didn't seem angry, just disappointed. "You aren't an idiot, Rick. You must have figured those lines weren't going down too well."

"Fine, I see your point." He floundered for a moment, trying to put it into words. "I guess I just… it's a way of keeping people at a distance."

"Well, it worked, didn't it?" She sat back, a triumphant look on her face. "Rick, we're going to have to be honest with each other if this… whatever it is… has any chance. And honestly? You need to cut back on the bragging, especially when you're stretching the truth. I don't like it."

Rick stared at her. Clearly this was something that had been festering for a while. He knew full well that she didn't appreciate it when he made those boasts. Hell, he wasn't too keen on it himself, but it had just become habit. That was what he told her. "Yeah, I know. Look, Kate, it's been a while since I met anyone who moved me like you do. I'm out of practice at sincere, all tuned up on glib. I know that." He reached across the table, taking her hand, and was pleased when she didn't pull away. "I'll try to knock it off. And if I do accidentally make a crass remark, just tell me I'm being a jackass."

Kate smiled slightly. "Oh, that I can do, no problem." She cast her eyes down at her hands for a moment, then looked back at him. "So there's nothing you 'honestly' want to tell me? Nothing I'm doing that annoys you?"

Rick looked at her for a moment, his brow creasing in thought. "No, not really. Nothing I can think of." She dipped her head, hiding a blush, and he could see a pleased smile grace her lips. "Kate, I'm crazy about you. I know we said this would go as slowly as you need it to, and I'm fine with that. But I just want to make sure you know, I am crazy about you."

"Oh. Well, I think I'm enjoying this honesty thing, Rick. And, turn about is fair play, so I'll tell you this: I'm head over heels nuts about you as well." Rick grinned so broadly at that he thought the top of his head might fall off, and Kate's smile widened in response.

They didn't say much else until their food arrived, and they began eating in a comfortable silence, perforated only by their mutual exclamations over how good the meal was. After a while, Kate spoke. "I've got to hand it to you, Rick, you know where all the good restaurants are. I'd never even heard of this place."

"I know, right? And I'm not even usually a fan of seafood." He ate with relish. "This is definitely the perfect antidote for a crappy day." It took him a moment to realize that Kate had gone very still on the other side of the table. When he looked up, he saw she was watching him, an inscrutable expression on her face.

"I am sorry about that, by the way. When I told you to go home. I didn't mean it to sound like…."

"Hey, I know. It's ok. I appreciate what you were trying to do, and it wasn't that moment I was talking about." He was trying to figure out a way to put his thoughts into words, to make her see the issues he was having with this case. He should have realized he didn't need to.

"Rick, I understand. You don't want to put this guy away, even if he is guilty. Because you sympathize with him, you think you might do the same thing, under those circumstances." At his surprised look, she cocked her head. "I'm a cop, remember. I'm good at reading people, and you're not particularly subtle. Not when something's upsetting you. Look, we've all had cases like this. Cases where the victim deserved it, or the murderer was a good person, at the end of their rope, or we can see why they did what they did. But I'm a cop, it's my job to catch these people. That's it. I present the best possible case I can to the D.A.'s office, and I leave it to them to fight it out with the defence team. No matter what I feel, I do my job." She was gazing at him imploringly, willing him to understand and, he guessed, try to adopt a similar stance. "You don't have that obligation, Rick. You're an observer, and if you want to recuse yourself from participating in this case any more, I'll understand."

"No, no I'm not going to do that." He felt guilty, absurdly, that he'd ignored Kate's own feelings about this case. "Kate, I've seen you do things that I'd never be strong enough to do. Arresting a man in front of his grandchildren, a husband in front of his wife. And you do it because it's the right thing to do, you never lose sight of the victim, no matter what provocation there was for the crime. That's a truly special thing." He shook his head. "No, I'm not going to run away from this just because it hits close to home. If Winston Brooks killed Jason Williams, then it's our job to catch him. I am your partner, and I will be there for you. Every time."

Kate's eyes were shining, and she brought a hand up to brush furtively at her cheek. "Rick… I… thank you. That means a lot to me."

"And working with you means a lot to me. I can't just pick and choose which bits I enjoy. It's all or nothing."

The rest of the meal went swimmingly, and now they'd unburdened all of their immediate concerns, they eased into a comfortable, intimate mood, talking of anything that came into their heads. This was a side of Kate Beckett that Rick had only ever seen glimpses of, but he soon came to the conclusion that it was a side of her that he would never be able to get enough of. Unguarded, happy, animated in the telling of stories, both appropriate and inappropriate. They stayed long after the meal was done, long after most other patrons had departed. It was only when the waiting staff began to bustle about, pointedly gathering up cutlery and setting chairs on table tops, that they realized they should probably make a move.

Rick tried signaling a waiter to ask for the check. "Rick, you paid over an hour ago, remember? We were going to leave, but then you started talking about your mother's friend, the one you had the crush on."

"Oh, right. Well, I guess we should leave, then." He glanced around, embarrassed to realize that they were the only two customers let. Standing, he gathered up his jacket and held his arm out for Kate. Again, she took it without hesitation, and leaned into him as they left the restaurant. The place was situated on a side street, and they decided to walk the two blocks back to the main road to hail a cab. Rick was thoroughly enjoying Kate's warm weight, as she pressed herself against his side. They'd both had a couple of drinks, but not enough to be more than slightly merry, and not enough to ignore the chill that had developed in the night air.

Kate shivered, and Rick quickly draped his jacket over her shoulders. "Here. Never let it be said that I'm not a gentleman."

Kate shook her head slightly. "Oh, heaven forbid. Though I doubt you'd want those gossip columnists knowing how considerate you are. Not when 'caddish superstar novelist' sells so many papers."

"Ah, who cares about their circulation figures. I think the cad has had his days in the sun. Time to retire gracefully." He looked down, to gauge her reaction, and was pleased to see her twirling that lock of hair through her fingers again. _Well, I'm definitely on the right track, _he decided. Not that he was in a hurry to get there. Not really. He would take all the time in the world if that's what it took to win her over.

Again, they lapsed into that companionable silence on the cab ride back to her apartment. He glanced across at her several times, and saw her eyelids starting to droop slightly. He felt a protective pang that he'd almost forgotten existed as he watched her trying to stay awake.

When they arrived back at her apartment building, he hopped out and hurried around to open the door for her again, then held out his hand to help her out. Surprisingly, she accepted without comment, and they ended up standing on the sidewalk, just inches between them. Rick looked down into her eyes, and saw what he took to be an eagerness that excited him. But he had no intentions of finding out whether he was right or not tonight. He leaned in, intending to give her a brief, perfunctory goodnight kiss. Her lips were so soft, like velvet, and he deepened the kiss, instinctively. Kate's hands came up to cup his face, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. When she parted her lips slightly, his heart jolted in his chest. He responded, his tongue drifting out to meet hers. It was like nothing else he'd ever experienced. A slow, teasing caress. He could taste the raspberry sorbet she'd had for dessert.

He lost track of time. Hell, he lost track of everything, standing there, his arms around her, her body moulded to his.

"Hey, buddy! You gonna shit or get off the pot?" The crude question made them both jump, and Rick turned to see the cab driver leaning out of his window, an impatient look on his face.

He burst out laughing, and Kate joined in, resting her forehead against his cheek. "Ok, I should go home now." He said, bringing a hand up to caress the side of her face. His voice was thick with lust, and his lips felt almost numb.

She nodded reluctantly. "You really should, or we might end up doing something we're not ready for yet." He was glad to hear that breathless quality in her voice, a slight shakiness that betrayed her confident words.

Rick backed away, putting a little space between the. "So, I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

Kate grinned at him, her eyes shining in the glow of the street lights. "Tomorrow, Rick. Bright and early, ok?" With that, she turned and entered her apartment building, a jaunty skip in her step. Rick watched her go, then clambered back into the taxi.

The driver stared at him. "Man, are you crazy? What are you doing sitting here when you got her up there, gagging for it?"

Rick grinned, too happy right now to take offence to the man's choice of words. "Sometimes the anticipation itself is enough." He said, settling back into the back seat of the cab. "And some things, you just wait for the perfect moment."

The driver eyed him doubtfully. "Waiting for your wedding night, huh? Yeah, my brother's wife was like that, wouldn't let him or no one else get in her pants for love nor money 'til they was married. Only, after the wedding, she kinda went the opposite direction, you get me?"

Rick sighed, glancing at the driver's I.D. "Just take me home, Louis. It's been a long day."

* * *

**A/N: **I felt I wanted a bit of a mood breaker at the end there, so enter Louis the rude cab driver. Don't worry, he won't appear again. As always, please read and review. I do appreciate all of your comments, even if I don't acknowledge them here.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: **Yeah, so it's been a while again. Sorry about that, but I've been feeling a distinct lack of inspiration lately. Maybe I need a new muse as well. Who knows. Anyway, this is yet more evidence that I need to start planning the cases more closely before I write them. But for some reason, that approach hasn't yielded much in the way of results. I find it much easier to just make things up on the fly. Despite that, hope you enjoy it.

* * *

**Chapter 17**

"Good morning, detective." The breezy, jaunty tones of Richard Castle pulled Kate's eyes away from her computer screen, and she smiled broadly as she watched the man drop into his chair and set the two cups of coffee he was carrying on her desk.

"Good morning to you too, Castle. Did you get home ok, last night?" Kate reached out and took one of the cups gratefully. _Much longer, and I'd have had to make myself one,_ she thought distractedly.

"Huh?" Castle looked baffled for a second, before it seemed to click. "Oh, you mean the florid and ebullient Louis, taxi driver and love counselor extraordinaire?"

"If by that, you mean the unpleasant little man who ruined the mood last night, then yes. Clearly he was a better driver than he was a communicator." She felt her cheeks colouring. That kiss the previous night had swum around in her head all night, and she was fairly sure she'd had some indecent dreams about what she might have done if 'Louis' hadn't spoken up. She still fancied that her lips were bruised, and if that's what a sweet and earnest kiss from Castle could do, she was almost fearful of the reaction a truly passionate, abandoned one might bring about. _Another time, _she cautioned herself, and flushed even more as she realized that, as far as she was concerned, there would be another time. Lots of other times, she hoped. She shook her head, briefly, to clear those thoughts before they became obvious on her face. "Did you mean what you said last night?"

Clearly, that was the wrong question. His eyes softened alarmingly, and he leaned in slightly. "Kate, you know I did. I thought you understood that…"

"No," she said, hurriedly. "I meant…. Sorry, I meant about working with me being all or nothing."

Castle blinked, clearly thrown by her change of tack. "Oh. Yeah, of course I did. Like I said, I consider myself your partner. What you do, I do." He frowned for a moment. "Or, at least, I try to do without hurting myself or looking like a fool."

Kate smiled at that, trying not to imagine him storming a suspect's apartment. Not only was the image ludicrous, but the last time they entered a place by force, he ended up in hospital. No, some things were best left in the hands of the professionals. "Well. Good, then." She settled down to business. "Brooks' lawyer got him released yesterday afternoon, not long after you went home. The boys are getting Carlton Brook's interview report emailed over, but it sounds like we might have something to go on, there."

Castle nodded. "So, you think Brooks' brother is going to spill the beans? Doesn't seem very familial to me."

Kate shook her head. "Castle, from what Esposito said after speaking with the Cincinnati P.D, it doesn't sound like Carlton Brooks knew anything about the murder of Jason Williams. Or he claims not." She leaned forward, and Castle mirrored her, a conspiratorial look on his face. "But get this, Carlton Brooks, veteran of the Vietnam War, did bring home a souvenir firearm that was never registered. Only now he claims it was stolen weeks ago."

"How do we know he had one, if it was never registered?" Castle looked dubious, and Kate wouldn't have blamed him, if she hadn't already heard the story. She grinned instead.

"Because a county sheriff out there goes to the same gun club as Brooks, and remembers seeing the gun on more than one occasion. Brooks liked to show it off, saying he…"

Castle broke in, grinning now as well. "Don't tell me. Saying he got it off a captured V.C. fighter."

"Well, a dead V.C. fighter apparently."

"Eh, my story was better." Castle shrugged, leaning back, but his eyes were glittering with satisfaction.

"Your story won't help us get a conviction. This one just might." Kate glanced over to where Esposito sat at his desk, drumming his fingers impatiently. "Doesn't look like the email's come through yet, though. I swear, we have the worst network connection known to man."

"Oh, good things come to those who wait, my dear Kate." Castle was grinning again, clearly pleased with his little rhyme. Kate rolled her eyes. "Speaking of which…" he fixed her with an eager gaze, and her skin suddenly tingled all over.

"What?" She asked, tentatively, waiting to see just how inappropriate a suggestion he was going to make. His grin was threatening to turn into a smirk, and Kate had to fight the urge to glare. She waited. And waited. "Oh, so this is a little allegory for me is it? Teaching me the value of patience?" She quirked an eyebrow at him.

He relented, and exhaled heavily. "You're too serious at work, you know that?"

"Well, if you want to see me in any setting other than work for the foreseeable future, I suggest you stop playing the jackass and spit it out."

"I was just going to tell you, that you look beautiful today." He said the words evenly, calmly, but his eyes gave him away, searing, intent on her, and Kate felt a surge of heat flood through her. _Damn him, he's too good at this._

"Castle, I look the same today as I do everyday." She told him, trying to force an edge of irritation into her voice. It didn't work, and she just ended up sounding winded.

"I know. But I've never told you that before." It took her a moment to get his implication, and when she did, that heat stoked like a furnace. She stood hastily, wanting to put some distance between them. "It's something I plan on telling you a lot more often. It's on a list of things I plan to do a lot more often."

"This isn't the place to talk like that." She told him sternly, striding quickly across to the murder board and staring at it intently. He followed her.

"Like what? I only said…"

"I know what you said. With your voice." She was flustered, and desperately hoped no one was watching them. "But you weren't just using your voice, were you?"

He laughed. "Kate, I don't know what you mean…"

With that, she snapped. Grabbing his arm, she dragged him towards the observation room, not caring who saw. He followed easily, but a glance back at his face told him that he was completely baffled. She just managed to refrain from slamming the door, and turned to face him.

"Castle, we can't be like… that. Not here." She stared at him, willing him to understand.

"What, you mean I can't talk to you? Compliment you?" He was starting to get that mulish look, and she spoke quickly to try and forestall him.

"Of course you can talk to me. But I already told you, I'm not ready for people at work to know… what's going on."

"Ryan and Esposito already know." He told her, in a soothing tone of voice that made her want to scratch him. "Or, they think they know. Either way…"

"Either way, it's none of their business. Whether we've kissed or whether we've had mind blowing, perception altering, borderline tantric sex all weekend." Castle's jaw dropped, Kate continued, refusing to dwell on the image she'd conjured for them. "It's not their concern, and I don't want people thinking that I'm one of your conquests."

Castle exhaled heavily, growing annoyed. "Oh, not that again. I thought we cleared this up last night…" Kate stepped closer to him, looking up, trying to catch his gaze.

"No, no. I know. I do, but they don't. You know what people will think, even if it isn't true. You of all people, must be aware of the power that reputations can have over you." She was almost desperate for him to understand. "I don't want people to think less of me. Or you."

He sighed again, refusing to meet her eyes. "Yeah, ok." Kate decided that was the best she would get right now, and steeled herself.

"So, in the precinct, we carry on as normal. And don't think your compliment doesn't mean anything to me, because it does. But it's not really… appropriate. Not when other people are around."

Castle did look at her then, eyes flashing with anger, and Kate took a step back, without realizing. "Appropriate? Isn't it a bit late to be worrying about that now? After kissing Demming in the office? There were people around then, too, remember? I was one of them." His voice was rising now, his anger starting to swell. "That wasn't professional either, was it? And hell, that's just the stuff I know about. For all I know, you had some of that perception altering sex with him in here too. Maybe right in this room!" His voice had a mean, spiteful tone to it that Kate hated. This conversation was quickly getting away from her.

"Rick, don't," she said imploringly. "Please don't do this." Kate knew that this bitterness could end what they had before it had even started. She moved closer to him, set her hand against his chest. "I'm sorry. I'm doing this all wrong. I don't want to upset you. Really I don't."

For a moment, he glared down at her, thunderclouds darkening his eyes, then he swallowed audibly and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them, he gazed down at her, still angry, but smothering it. "No, Kate. I'm sorry. I supposed I read more into last night than I should have. It was just one little kiss after all, no big deal."

"Rick, it was a big deal. It was… you know what it was. But I just don't want anyone thinking that…. Just for now. Just until we know what we've got." Kate despised the sound of her voice at that moment, the wheedling, coercive quality of it. She knew that this was cowardly, and so did he, but the idea of being _with_ Richard Castle still terrified her. She had to get used to that being a real possibility before she could think about people knowing she was with him.

"Kate, I understand. Much better than you think I do." He looked away for a moment, and she could still see his anger in the set of his jaw. He looked back, eying her inscrutably for a moment then said, "Now let's go and catch a murderer." He didn't wait for a response, though she opened her mouth to speak, before opening the door and striding out. Kate stared miserably at his back for a moment, shook herself slightly, and followed.

As she stepped out of the observation room, she saw Esposito waiting patiently, a wry grin on his face. Deciding not to comment, she just glared until he glanced away in discomfort, and began to speak. "So, whilst you two were… busy… the email came through. I've just given it a quick read, and Carlton Brooks claims he did have an old Chinese pistol. "A Type-54."

"The same gun used to kill our vic," Kate confirmed, hoping there was more.

Esposito nodded, a touch of victory on his face. "Yeah, seems likely. Unfortunately, as I said before, it was stolen. At least, that's what Brooks claims. About a month ago."

Kate frowned. "Nothing more specific?"

"Afraid not. Seems he didn't think it important enough to report, either. He claims that he thought he might get in trouble for having an unlicenced, weapon." Esposito shook his head in disbelief as he said it. "Though he also admits that he had shown the gun off down at the club on more than one occasion, and to law enforcement officers."

Castle stirred at this. "Well, Carlton Brooks doesn't seem too bright, does he?" He glanced over at Kate, raising his eyebrows. "Or at least, he doesn't seem too convincing."

Kate gave him a tight smile, and turned back to Esposito. "There's more, isn't there?"

Esposito grinned. "Oh yeah, there's more."

Kate waited, and then rolled her eyes. "Anything you feel like sharing?"

"Oh, just a little bit of information you might be interested in. Like, Winston Brooks went out to visit his brother, just four weeks ago. A couple of days after his daughter's funeral."

"Shut the front door!" Kate exclaimed, barely able to believe it. _All this effort, and the answer was sitting right there, the whole time? Not quite there yet, girl, ease up._

"Can't," Esposito told her. "Brooks' means just came into the house to dance with his motive." She smiled at that, pleased at the image.

"Well, if we can get opportunity to bring the beer, we've got ourselves a party."

Castle groaned. "Oh, please, leave the imagery to me. You guys stick to the cold, hard facts." Esposito sniggered, and Kate shook her head slightly, waving to catch the eye of Ryan, as he strolled into the bullpen.

He hurried over. "Hey guys, I've got good news." He was grinning from ear to ear, and Kate's spirits soared even higher. "We finally got the CCTV from the store Brooks said he went to that morning. Well, he was there. For maybe five minutes, between 06:45 and 06:50."

"That gives him enough time to get into the city before 8." Kate glanced over at Esposito. "Has Lanie been able to narrow the time of death down for us, at all?"

He grimaced, shaking his head. "Not really. There's a restaurant on each side of the alley, with hot air vents blowing on the body when it dropped. Throws their estimates off, and he'd only been dead a couple of hours anyway. Best she can do is what she already gave us. Between 06:00 and 08:00."

Kate nodded, she'd thought as much. "Ok, so now we've got Winston Brooks without an alibi for the whole time, his brother missing what could be the murder weapon, and a motive as strong as we could ever wish for." She glanced at Castle, and saw him nodding grimly to her words.

"But it's still all circumstantial." Ryan added, looking glum. "We need that gun."

Kate thought for a moment, frustration mounting. Then, a thought struck her. "Maybe not. If Brooks drove into the city, he should have been picked up on traffic cameras. We've got his vehicle reg."

"I'm on it." Ryan announced, scurrying over to his desk and thumping his keyboard to bring the computer back to life.

Castle shuffled over to her. "You really think you're going to catch him on those closed circuit things?"

Kate sighed, and shrugged her shoulders slightly. "I don't know, Castle. It's a long shot, but it's the best we've got. Whilst Ryan's doing that, we're going to go and talk to a nice friendly judge about search warrants for Brooks' home and for their Manhattan apartment." She moved to pick up her phone, aware that surprising a judge with a warrant request was never that advisable.

As she did so, Castle's phone started ringing, and Kate half listened as he answered.

"Hello?... Oh, hi…. Yeah, I know they're…. No, it's not that simple…. Oh fine, just tell him to call me later today. I'll speak to him myself…. Ok, bye." He hung up, looking some how even more disgruntled.

"Something important, Castle?" Kate asked, warily, still not quite sure where they stood after their disagreement. She assumed that had been Paula, not many people managed to make Rick Castle sound that harried and uncomfortable."

He looked at her, a blank expression on his face. "Hmm? Oh, no, that was nothing." He waved it off, casually. "So, are we getting this warrant or not?"

* * *

Rick stood and watched as Beckett and a couple of uniformed officers poked around the Brooks' Manhattan apartment. The search warrants had been easy enough to get, once Judge Markaway heard it was for the Jason Williams case. The good judge always had been a big basketball fan.

Rick was feeling pretty useless at the moment, though. Nothing had sprung out at him as he looked about the place, and he knew that this really wasn't his forte, no matter how many times he'd seen it done. And right now, he really wanted to keep out of Beckett's way. He was still simmering with anger over her words earlier, the implication that she didn't want people to know she was interested in him, that way. _She never had a problem with people seeing her with Demming. Kissing him, canoodling with him…. _The thought broke off, his frustration at Beckett, and at himself was leaving him off-balance. He knew that he shouldn't be angry at this, that nothing had really happened between him and Kate yet, and he had little idea whether anything consequential would happen yet. And he knew that he'd been more than content to keep things quiet about their feelings before last night.

So why the change? He knew the answer to that too, of course. After kissing Kate Beckett, the first thing he'd wanted to do was shout it from the rooftops, to let the world know that this incredible, beautiful woman was his. But, as their conversation had made abundantly clear, she wasn't. Not yet anyway, and maybe not ever, if they couldn't make it through a day without fighting. He knew he was jumping the gun massively, and that he should get a grip on himself. But when he looked at her, when she smiled at him, it was so difficult to remember that.

Sighing to himself, he decided to leave it alone for now. It's not like they could carry on their discussion here, in front of other cops, and from the way Beckett was avoiding making eye contact with him, he knew that she had no intention of distracting herself from the case at the moment.

"Detective," one of the uniformed officers called. "Look at this." He was standing, in the doorway through to what must have been Rebecca Brooks' bedroom. Becket looked up, and strode over to see what he'd found. Rick moved around the edge of the room, to get a better view of what she was looking at, but didn't feel inclined to stand at her shoulder, right now. Peering slightly, he saw the officer hand Beckett a small, leather-bound book. _Diary?_ He thought. That seemed likely, or perhaps a therapy journal of some kind.

"Looks like her diary," Beckett said, leafing through it, and Rick nodded to himself. After a few moments of silence as Beckett read, she exhaled heavily. "Where was it?"

"On the bed," the officer told her, gesturing back into the room. "Look, you can see the indentation in the duvet, where someone was sitting."

Beckett smiled slightly. "Good eyes, Craven. You could make detective one day, with that sort of attention to detail."

The young cop preened slightly, and his face reddened when Beckett smiled at him. Rick felt a stab of jealousy. _She's never told me I could make a detective. And why's she smiling at him?_ Grimacing at himself, he leaned deliberately against the far wall. _Stop being so ridiculous, _he chided. _Be an adult, for once in your life._

Determined, he stepped forward, and moved over to them, speaking for the first time since they'd entered the building. "When was the last entry?"

Beckett glanced up, surprised, and smiled when she saw him, a mix of relief and pleasure. It made Rick feel small, unworthy. He had to stop being an ass. Right now.

Beckett flicked through the pages, until she found the last entry. "Looks like just over a month ago. The day she killed herself." She paused, frowning at the words. "She actually writes here that she's going to do it…. That she can't keep feeling like this." Kate looked back up at him, her eyes sad. "I guess this was her suicide note."

Rick didn't let himself dwell on that, and forged ahead. "So, she wrote that on the day she died. A month ago. But the Brooks moved out to Westchester permanently two months ago." Beckett's eyes widened.

"So, the diary was in their home in Westchester. Someone brought it back here." She grinned, knowing they were on to something.

Rick nodded. "Someone brought it back here, and sat on her bed to read it. To remember her. Maybe they sat here, reminding themselves of all they'd lost."

"Ok, so Winston Brooks came here at some point after she died. That doesn't really help us. He owns the place." She paused for a moment, eyes locked on his, sparkling in excitement. Rick could see the connections forming in her mind. He loved her like this, loved seeing her formidable intellect doing what it did best. "Unless… he came here before going to kill Williams."

"This apartment is what? Five minutes walk away from the murder scene." Rick found himself smiling as he asked, "You think this place has security cameras in the lobby?"

"I'm sure it does." Kate turned to Craven, "Go and speak to the desk manager. We need the tapes from Friday morning." The young man nodded, and hightailed it out of the room.

_Probably hoping to impress her some more, _Rick thought, uncharitably. He rolled his eyes at his continuing immaturity, and decided to try and make himself useful. "So, you think we're going to find that Brooks was here that morning?"

Beckett looked at him, still smiling slightly. "If we get lucky. That would prove he was lying to us when providing an alibi. That, plus the rest of the evidence might just be enough for the D.A. to prosecute. If he's in a good mood."

"Even without a murder weapon or any witnesses?" Rick was skeptical, but could hardly claim to know better than Kate Beckett herself did.

"Yeah, maybe. If not, we can still question Brooks again, tell him we know he was here, perhaps read a few entries of the diary."

"Ok well, is there anything else here?" He looked around, dubiously. The place clearly hadn't been lived in for some time.

Beckett sighed. "I don't think so. We aren't going to find the gun hidden under a mattress, if that's what you mean. We'll leave the unis to finish the search and check in with the boys, see if they can find anything at the Brooks home in Westchester."

* * *

Within an hour, they found themselves sitting in front of a television set in the precinct, skimming through the apartment building's security tapes for the morning of the murder.

Rick still felt a little out of sorts, and hadn't managed to speak to Beckett yet, to try and reconcile their earlier argument. He knew he should apologise for what he'd said, and how he'd acted, but just couldn't seem to find the words. Ironic really, considering what he did for a living. He could tell, also, that Beckett was ill at ease in his presence. Tentative, hesitant, which was unlike her. So they watched the video in silence. His attention drifted away from the screen, and his eyes strayed towards the woman next to him. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to the punch.

"There!" She froze the playback, on the image of a middle aged man walking into the building. "That's Brooks. Timestamp 07:20."

Rick blinked, and studied the image. She was right, it was definitely Brooks. "Look, he's carrying the diary. Or that's what it looks like."

"Ok, so we know he went there. When did he leave." Beckett scrolled the image forward, and stopped again on the shot of Brooks leaving. "Less than ten minutes later. Seems he didn't need too much time to convince himself."

"So, that would put him at the crime scene before twenty to eight. Plenty of time to kill Williams." He glanced at Beckett, and saw that familiar look on her face. The one that said 'got you, you bastard.' He wished he could share that pleasure in this instance, but still couldn't quite detach himself the way she could. "So, we know his alibi is a bust. He lied to us. You got enough to arrest him?"

"Not to charge him. Not yet. But yeah, I'll call Esposito. They're still out at the house. They can bring him in." She pulled out her phone, and ordered Esposito to do just that.

Rick waited until she'd finished, then decided he needed to try and apologise. "Kate, about before…."

She waved him away. "Castle, not now. I don't have time to be arguing with you about that." She stood, and strode away without a backward glance, coffee cup in hand.

Rick watched he go, almost grinding his teeth in frustration. He knew he deserved such short shrift, but there was no denying that it hurt. He supposed that was fair enough too, considering the way he'd acted earlier. He leaned back in his chair, trying to catch sight of Beckett through the break room window. She still had her back firmly to him.

* * *

Brooks looked just as calm as before. Perhaps more so. Rick had tried to stare him out, as they sat in the interrogation room, waiting for Beckett. He hadn't been successful. Brooks' lawyer sat next to him, an air of resignation about him, as though he considered this whole thing tiresome, but that he was getting paid regardless.

"Mr. Castle, what do you think this is going to accomplish? Really?" Brooks sounded calm too, even slightly contemptuous. That tone of voice set Rick on edge. It had just enough of that patrician, old-moneyed arrogance to it that it called to mind Sheila Blaine, and all those of her ilk who had looked down their noses at him, considered him an upstart and uncouth. He had to hand it to the man, he was certainly making an effort to sap any sympathy or empathy Rick might have had left to give.

"We're looking to catch a murderer, Mr. Brooks. That's what we hope to accomplish." He said nothing else, knowing that Beckett would throttle him for starting without her. He was surprised she'd acquiesced to let him sit in the room whilst she did a little bit of last minute prep for the coming interrogation. But then, she'd apparently meant what she'd said when she'd told him she had no time for him at the moment.

Brooks was watching him, with that air of superciliousness that really was starting to rub Rick the wrong way. Luckily, before he could say anything stupid, the door opened and Beckett swept in.

"Mr. Brooks," she said, without looking up from the file she was carrying. "So good to see you again. I hope this hasn't been inconvenient."

"I'm sure you do, detective. However, this is quite fine. I can see you're grasping at straws. Searching my house, arresting me. I understand how frustrating it must be, to not be able to find what you're looking for."

Beckett smiled, a cold, predatory smile. Rick eased back in his chair, sincerely glad she wasn't directing it at him. "I'll get right to the point, Mr. Brooks. We know you lied about your whereabouts the morning of Jason Williams' murder."

"Oh? And how would you claim to know such a thing?" Rick saw a slight twitch, at the corner of Brooks' eye. _Got you,_ he thought, and struggled to keep the blank mask on his face.

Beckett continued. "Security tapes at the store showed you did go in to speak to the proprietor. But you left the store at 06:50."

"Did I? Well, I suppose I lost track of time. It's easily done." Not so confident now, Rick noted.

Beckett noticed too, moving to sit down and lean across the desk. "They're really handy things, security tapes. They can show all kinds of things, and even when people know they're there, they just seem to… forget." Brooks was starting to look nervous now. His lawyer frowned, clearly not having a clue what Beckett might be talking about. She continued. "For instance, we also have security footage from 117 2nd Avenue. Do you know that building?"

"Yes, of course I do. It's the building our apartment is in."

"Yes it is. And what do you suppose that security footage shows?"

Brooks looked caught now, Rick thought. "I… I haven't the faintest idea." He brought his hand to his brow, stroking his forehead nervously.

"We have you, entering that building at 07:20, the morning of Jason Williams' murder. And leaving again at 07:28. But you said you were in Westchester, that you didn't come into the city that morning. You lied to us, Mr. Brooks. I'd like to know why."

Beckett sat patiently, that perfect brow of hers wrinkled slightly in what an untrained observer might take as polite interest. Rick knew her better, and knew she was just biding her time before going in for the kill.

"I… I didn't lie, I was in the store. I told you."

"You told us you were there for twenty minutes, from seven onwards. You were in there for five. You told us that after you left the store, you came home to get ready for work. That, Mr. Brooks, is what we call a lie. You drove into the city, and went to your apartment there. And you brought this with you." She placed the diary on the table, and Brooks stared at it as though it was poisonous, as though it could hurt him.

_It probably can, _Rick thought, watching the man closely. _His daughter's last words, all that pain and suffering. What could ever hurt more?_

Beckett didn't mention any of that, though. "And we believe you had a gun with you, as well. The Chinese Army Type-54 pistol that your brother, Carlton Brooks says was stolen from him a month ago, around the time you were visiting him in Ohio. The same type of gun that was used to kill Jason Williams."

The lawyer spoke then, leaning forward laboriously. "Do you actually have this murder weapon, detective?"

Beckett spared him a glance, before directing her attention back on Brooks. "No. We don't. We have a shell casing recovered from the scene that confirms the type and manufacturer of the weapon."

"Well then, without a weapon, I don't see how you can tie my client to…"

Beckett cut him off. "Why did you go back to the apartment, Mr. Brooks? Why did you sit on your daughter's bed and read her diary? Those painful, oppressive thoughts that she wrote down in the last days of her life. Her suicide note? Were you trying to pluck up the courage to do something?"

Brooks was sweating slightly now, and Rick could see traces of moisture in his eyes. Beckett saw too, and clearly decided to take the opening. She flipped the diary open and began to read. "I don't think I can live with this any more. The pills don't work, I still see his face every time I close my eyes. I still feel him… there every time I try to sleep. And I can't forget the laughter and mockery of people I thought were my friends. There's only one way to escape from this. I know it now. Perhaps I've always known it…."

"Alright, enough!" Brooks shouted the words, tears marking his cheeks. "I did it! There, are you happy now? I killed that little shit. I waited for him, knew he'd walk down that street. I forced him down the alley at gunpoint." Brooks' lawyer grabbed at his client's arm, trying to quiet him, but was brushed off.

"And then you told him to get on his knees." Beckett supplied, and Brooks nodded. "Did you ask him to explain himself? To apologise?"

Brooks snorted with laughter at that, loud and bitter. "Apologise? Oh he did that, over and over. Little coward. Not so brave when it's not a drugged teenage girl, was he?"

"The apology wasn't enough, though. Was it?"

"He didn't mean it. Not a word. He just wanted to save his own skin. And even if he had meant it, what's that to me? That doesn't bring my Becky back, does it?" He exhaled shakily. "No, detective. There was only one thing to do."

Rick couldn't keep quiet any longer. "Even if that one thing made you as much a criminal as him?" Beckett glanced at him, but he didn't get a good enough look at her expression to read it, and continued. "Didn't you care about that?"

"Mr. Castle, my life is over anyway." Rick understood what he meant, and prayed to whoever might be up there, watching, that he never knew what it was to feel that way.

"What about your wife?" He forced himself to ask. "You still have her."

"If she knew what I'd done, she'd thank me for it." Brooks answered, leadenly. "All she does now is take pills to help her sleep. And when the dreams wake her, she takes more pills."

"What about the gun?" Beckett asked, quietly.

"On my way back home, I stopped at the side of the road and threw it into the trees." Brooks answered, emptily. "I can probably tell you where, if you give me some time to think."

Silence fell. Brooks stared at his hands, defeated. His lawyer just sat there, flabbergasted and probably feeling more than a little useless. Rick, turned to look at Beckett, and she nodded slightly at him, before standing. "Ok. Winston Brooks, I am arresting you for the murder of Jason Williams. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?"

"Yes. I understand." Brooks said, weakly. He glanced at his lawyer. "I'm sorry Bob, it looks like I've wasted your time today, and my money." The lawyer smiled weakly at the jibe, watched, along with Rick, as Beckett handcuffed Brooks and led him from the room.

* * *

"Hey, you two, I hear congratulations are in order." Montgomery clapped Rick and Beckett on the shoulder as he marched up behind them, a big grin on his face. "Closed yet another case. Dynamite, pure dynamite."

"Well, we had a lot of help on this one, captain," Beckett answered, modest as always. "And a lot of luck, too."

"The best cops always get the best luck." Montgomery answered, refusing to be swayed. "And the best novelists too, I guess. Right, Castle?"

Rick smiled, and glanced across at Beckett. "Oh, I wake every morning thanking God for my good luck, captain." He caught Beckett's gaze, and suddenly felt just a little awkward as he remembered their earlier fight, and the as yet unresolved nature of it. She bit her lip pensively, and looked away.

"Hey, captain. Don't let them hog all the praise, we were out there doing the grunt work." Esposito nodded in agreement at Ryan's words, and they studiously absorbed Montgomery's congratulations in turn.

"You all keep this up, and we'll be getting glowing reports for the end of this quarter. I don't know what we'd do without any of you around here."

Rick was about to make a crack that might dampen the captain's mood, when his phone rang. "Oh, excuse me, I'll just get this." He quickly moved away from the group, glancing back to see Beckett watching him curiously.

"Hello?"

"Ricky! How's it going? How's my favourite novelist turned scriptwriter?" The overly jovial tones confirmed it was indeed Bruce Parker, Hollywood player and lead producer of Heat Wave, calling him directly, as he'd instructed Paula to request.

"Everything's great, Bruce. How are you?"

"Oh well, you know. Can't complain, of course. Just bought a new Ferrari, but the damn thing doesn't have the right shade of upholstering, so I sent it back, told them to get it right."

Rick had gotten used to Bruce's mannerisms whilst in L.A. It wasn't bragging. Not exactly. Rick thought he'd probably be horrified if someone did accuse him of waving his success in their faces by mentioning all the material luxuries he spent money on. He supposed though, that once you were as rich as Bruce, they barely qualified as luxuries. "Right. That's just sloppy of them, huh?"

"Tell me about it. I can't drive a red car with cream seats. Especially not a convertible. I told them, white. White leather. Pure as the driven snow, just like me." Rick offered the requisite snort of laughter, acknowledging the joke. "Anyway, my dear, you know what I'm phoning about, of course."

"I think I can guess." Rick answered, warily.

"Well, of course you can, you're a very intelligent man." Rick waited for him to get to the point, his gaze drifting back to Beckett, who was laughing at something Ryan had said. She did have an amazing laugh. "Look, Rick, we need an answer, and we need it now. We can't put this off any longer."

"No, I get that." He couldn't take his eyes off her. Seeing her happy and relaxed like this was a rare thing, even for him. Clearly, this case had been weighing down on her shoulders. He supposed he hadn't been helping, with all the extra pressure he was putting on her. Well, perhaps now would be the time to remove it.

She looked up at him, and smiled brightly, happily. Those eyes, the colour so elusive, locked on his. Rick found himself smiling back, and then Bruce interrupted his reverie.

"So, what's it going to be, Rick? Are you coming out to work with us?"

Rick, still captivated by those eyes, by the honest excitement on her face, gave his answer.

* * *

**A/N: **Ooh, what's he going to say? I already know, of course, but I still found it more fun to stop there. Please read and review. I think I'll try to start answering them, which is new for me. I would have done before, but I get all embarrassed and tongue (or finger, I guess, as I'm typing this) tied at compliments. Still, I do enjoy them, so don't be shy. Same goes for any criticisms.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: **Yes, I changed my pen name. Should have done it a long while ago, but never got around to it. Anyway, this one's kind of short, compared to what I've been writing recently, but I just had the urge to get the scene down before I ended up over-thinking it too much.

I know some of you were annoyed with Beckett in the last chapter, so I hope this one manages to make you like her again. And I hope none of you think Castle is being unreasonable, or too demanding too soon.

* * *

**Chapter 18**

Kate watched as Castle hastily retreated, eying the display on his cell phone keenly. He turned to glance back at her briefly, his expression unreadable. She could guess what the call was about, though, just as she could guess what that earlier mysterious call had been about.

It was the movie; they wanted his decision on the movie. Her mind rebelled at the thought of him agreeing to do it, that he would leave her and whatever it was that they were just about to embark on together. _Surely he wouldn't, _she thought, with a hint of desperation. _But then, things aren't exactly going swimmingly so far today. Our first kiss, followed by our first fight._ Well, it wasn't really their first fight, they fought all the time. But it was the first time that one of them had openly called out the other on their conduct. And so far, there had been no sign of détente. Kate knew they had to talk about it, to resolve things and move forward but honestly, his accusations weren't fair, and they had stung. It wasn't any of his business what she had done or not done with Tom Demming, or with anyone else, or where she'd done it. He had no right to be angry. No right to bring her to account for it, when he'd done so much more, and shown no regret whatsoever.

Her thoughts were derailed when Ryan made a crack about Esposito and his arcane firearms knowledge. She laughed, more relieved to be distracted than truly amused, and listened as Ryan continued to expound on Esposito's apparent fetish for unusual guns.

"No, seriously man, you've got to get past this. I can't be trying to apprehend a scumbag, only to have you cooing and going all gooey over the exotic, Italian pistol he's waving at us."

Esposito grinned good-naturedly and rolled his eyes. Kate found herself smiling genuinely, and then glanced back to check on Castle. He was watching her, his expression hard to decipher. Then he smiled back, and from this distance she couldn't really tell, but thought it might reach his eyes. _Perhaps things will be ok, after all, _she thought.

Castle ended the call and strode back over to the group, that enigmatic look back on his face. Kate was about to ask him about the phone call, when Ryan spoke first.

"So, the case is done, and it's… oh, just after four thirty. What say we head down to the bar for a couple of celebratory drinks?" He glanced around hopefully, and took in Esposito's eager nod. "Castle, Beckett? Captain?"

Montgomery blew out his cheeks, and said, "I'd love to, detective, but whilst the day might be over for you, if I let you go that is, I've still got plenty to be getting on with."

"The perils of being the big man at the top, huh?" Castle asked, still smiling that little smile that Kate was still trying to get her head around.

"Oh, I wish, Castle, I wish. If I really was the big man at the top, I wouldn't have to put up with you, for a start."

"Ouch!" Castle responded, hand to his chest. "Captain, you wound me."

"Ah, you guys can get out of here." Montgomery waved a hand, dismissing them. "And good work today, again." Kate smiled at the renewed praise, and then turned to look at Ryan and Esposito.

"So, what say you, Beckett? You up for a couple of drinks?" Esposito wheedled. "It is Friday, after all." Kate hesitated, and glanced across at Castle, who was watching her with interest.

"Oh, what the hell. But just for a little while. I don't feel the need to wake up tomorrow with a sore head." All three men grinned happily, and Kate felt the urge to roll her eyes, somehow sensing that she would be the only one with that sort of good sense. "Let me just bag all the murder board stuff for the D.A. and I'll meet you down there. O'Hare's right?"

Ryan confirmed their destination, a small bar just a couple of minutes walk from the precinct, and headed over to his desk to collect his jacket. Esposito followed, and Kate turned to the murder board, giving it one final perusal before she began to take it apart. It took her a moment to realise Castle hadn't gone with the boys. She peered over at him questioningly, waiting to see what he had to say.

"Kate… I…" He seemed lost for words, which was new. Kate tried not to wonder at the cause, and instead adopted what she hoped was a reassuring expression.

"Castle, not now. We'll talk later." At the stubborn look that came over him, she elaborated. "In the bar, we'll find a quiet corner and talk. Ok?" After a moment, he nodded and gathered up his jacket before hightailing it after Ryan and Esposito, who appeared to be letting a couple of the other guys know that the drinks tonight were on Castle.

She smiled at that, and shook her head. _Poor guy, not even his bank account can withstand that sort of assault._ Turning back to the murder board, she set about dismantling the case they'd built and carefully boxing the information to be sent on to the District Attorney's office.

* * *

Kate arrived at the bar a little over thirty minutes later. It was pretty empty, which might have been considered unusual for just after five on a Friday, but this was really a cop bar, and Kate knew from limited experience that it wouldn't really fill up for another couple of hours. She had no trouble finding her team. They were ensconced around a couple of tables just twenty feet or so from the bar. She spied Ryan and Esposito holding court, explaining to the three or four other guys there something or other about spotting criminals by the state of their shoes, and she shook her head again. It was a little surprising to see Lanie sat next to Esposito, listening tolerantly.

Kate headed over, and greeted them, then asked her friend "Did you escape or something, Lanie? No corpses to spend the evening with?"

"Unlike you, I do have a life." Lanie retorted. "Esposito called to tell me you guys were coming for a drink, and I decided I'd worked hard enough this week."

"Esposito called you, huh?" Kate asked, eyebrow raised. The man in question glanced over at her, and gave her an uncomfortable smile. "Since when do you and Esposito exchange phone calls?"

Lanie sighed, and looked at her patiently. "Since we exchanged numbers, obviously."

"Right," Kate answered, her suspicions mounting. But she decided to let it go for now. There would be plenty of time to dig for details another time. "Where's Castle?" She asked, as she realized with surprise that he wasn't at the table. _He wasn't hurt that I blew him off before, was he?_ Doubts assailed her, and for a moment, she didn't realise that Lanie was pointing towards the bar. Kate turned, and saw him standing, leaning against it, seemingly deep in conversation with the extremely pretty barmaid, who was leaning over the bar, surely well aware that her top was too low cut for such a maneuvre to be anything but a come on. She took a deep breath, feeling a spark of anger and deep disappointment ignite somewhere inside her. "What's he doing? Trying to pick up a girl already?" Lanie raised her eyebrows at Kate's tone.

"I don't know. Maybe you should go and ask him." Kate glanced doubtfully at her friend, confused by the suddenly cool tones.

"Ok. I will." She paced over to the bar, slowing before she got there, and was able to catch a snatch of the conversation.

"… Well, of course it can be difficult getting an editor to read your stuff," Castle was saying, as the girl listened intently. "But you've got to remember, even the greats were rejected by editors and publishers in their time. Graham Greene, Joseph Heller, even Dr. Seuss."

"Even Richard Castle?" The girl asked archly.

Castle laughed lightly. "Oh well, there are always exceptions to the rule." He told her with mock self importance, and she laughed. Then she noticed Kate, and straightened up, looking slightly flustered.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. Can I get you a drink?" She was all smiles and politeness.

Kate smiled back, but clearly it didn't have the intended effect, when the girl seemed to shrink in on herself, and glance back at Castle doubtfully. "Oh, don't worry," Kate told her. "He's buying. Aren't you, Castle?"

He'd turned when the girl addressed her, and smiled. "Beckett, I didn't really think you'd come. I don't recall ever seeing you in a bar before."

"Oh, it's obvious you weren't expecting me." She darted a pointed glance at the bar maid, who assiduously shuffled down the bar, to serve another customer.

Castle looked confused. "What?" He followed her look, and snorted lightly. "Kate, the girl's an aspiring author, who's just had a few too many rejections. She wanted a bit of a pep talk. That's all."

"Really? Because it looked to me like she might have wanted to "pep" something else." She was conscious to keep her voice low. The bar was still quiet, and the only sound seemed to be the ambient chatter of the patrons.

"What? That's not even the correct use of that word," Castle told her, earning a narrowing of her eyes. He hurriedly moved on. "Look, I was getting drinks for the guys, and she recognized me. She asked me how I found it when I was starting out, what sort of problems I encountered. I gave her some advice. Nothing more."

Kate eyed him carefully, looking for any signs that he was being less than completely truthful. She saw none, so decided to leave it be. "Fine. But I was serious just then. You are buying."

"Finally, something I can do for you," he answered, a slight acid tinge to the words. Kate frowned at that, and realized that all she'd managed to do so far was to stir up the grievance that still hadn't been adequately settled.

The problem was that she wasn't sure how to settle it. She sidled up to the bar and stood alongside Castle as he ordered a drink for her from the suitably chastened barmaid. She glanced sidelong at him, and saw a tightness in his face that she'd come to recognize as securely reined in anger.

She waited until the barmaid returned with her drink, and then scuttled down to the other end of the bar, then ventured to speak. "So… what was that phone call about earlier?" She tried to keep her voice casual, mildly interested. It was just one of a number of things she needed clarification on, but the only one she felt brave enough to bring up right now. "Actually, both phone calls." Her eyes strayed towards him again, as she waited for a response.

He sighed heavily. "You know what they were about." That was all he said.

"Yeah?" Her chin came up slightly. "They were about the movie, weren't they? About going to L.A. to write your screenplay?" She waited for what seemed an eternity, before he nodded, barely perceptibly.

"Yes. They were about the movie. Bruce needed an answer. He wouldn't let me prevaricate any more." His voice was even, almost leaden, his face blank. Kate bit her lip in consternation.

"So, when do you leave?" She asked, hating the slight quaver in her voice. She was staring at him now, needing an answer. Needing to know.

Castle glanced down at his hands, swirling his scotch a little in the glass. He sighed again, this time even more deeply, and then turned to look at her. "I'm not."

Kate blinked. "Wh… what?" She didn't dare believe her ears, didn't dare acknowledge the joy burbling up inside her.

"I'm not going." Castle clarified, his lips tightening into what she assumed was meant to be a dismissive smile, as though he didn't mind tossing this chance aside. "I told them the answer was no. That I couldn't leave New York at the moment."

"You… you really said that?" Kate was stunned, trying to find the catch, the nasty little barb that would end up biting in, and sticking. "What about your dream? What about your career?"

He shrugged. "I've got a pretty good career as it is. And I know you know this, because the evidence of it sits on your bookshelves at home." Kate felt reassured by the teasing, and allowed herself a brief laugh, allowed the relief to creep in just a little more. "Besides, I've been getting the feeling that my dreams weren't going to be that compatible with theirs. I've never been good at doing what I'm told."

"Really? I hadn't noticed." Kate retorted, weak with the release of tension, and he smiled wider. "So, they just accepted that you weren't going to do it? No inducements or persuasion?"

"Oh, they tried. Bruce told me I was crazy to throw this chance away, that this would have meant big money and big exposure. My reasons weren't swaying him, so in the end, I just told him it was an affair of the heart, and nothing could get in the way of that."

Kate nodded, slightly dazed, and downed her drink without thinking. "The heart?" She repeated, dumbly.

Castle nodded. "I had plenty of reasons not to go. My mother being here alone, Alexis not being keen on the idea, the fact that I don't think my dreams would ever live up to reality. But there was one reason, overriding them all. I knew that going might just cost me something that I'd regret for the rest of my life." His eyes were boring into hers now. Blue fire, heating her, almost burning in its intensity.

"And that was?" She already knew the answer, but wanted to hear him say it.

"You know it's you." He said the words easily, evenly. "Even if you're ashamed to be with me, scared of what your friends think, what your colleagues think. Even if you'd die of embarrassment if the tabloids ever heard about us, I still want you." She had no response, her mouth hanging open as he continued. "I may be jumping the gun massively, considering we've really only been on one date, one real date, but I think we could really have something special, if we both have the courage to seize the opportunity. And even if that means we have to keep it a secret, that no one can know, then so be it. Because all that truly matters is that I know, and that you know."

Kate stared, still trying to process his words, trying to form an adequate response. Somewhere deep down, she was vaguely aware that she was gaping like a fish. _He's really willing to do that? To keep this as though it was a dirty little secret? Because he thinks I want to?_ He'd finished speaking, and was gazing at her, completely unruffled. Relaxed, as though the weight of the world was suddenly gone from his shoulders. Still, Kate struggled to tell him what she wanted to, to tell him that it was too much; she didn't want that from him at all. In the end, she decided simply to act.

She reached out and seized his collar, almost roughly, and pulled him towards her, raising her head to capture his lips with her own. There was nothing slow or tentative about this, nothing at all like the sweet kiss they'd shared the previous night. Her lips parted almost instantly, and her tongue dipped out, caressing him urgently. After a moment, he seemed to gather his wits, and responded, his arms coming up to wrap securely around her, hands pressing her deeper into his embrace, his lips parting easily. She heard a moan, and realized it was her own; almost a purr as she let her own hands wander from his chest to his shoulders, and then up into his hair, where they tangled in the surprisingly silky locks.

Eventually, they broke apart, gasping for breath, faces still mere inches from each other. Kate stared deeply into his eyes, seeing the shock, now muted by desire, and smiled. Her lips didn't seem to work properly, they felt swollen and more than a little bruised. She let out a shuddering sigh, and resisted the urge to work her mouth, to raise her hand to feel how distended her lips might be.

"Oh. My. God." The voice was unmistakably Lanie's, unmistakably astounded, and Kate and Rick turned to look in its direction. The woman in question, along with Ryan, Esposito and a half dozen other colleagues from the precinct were sitting in rapt amazement, eyes wide. Kate felt crimson suffuse her face, but refused to look away. Lanie look scandalized, mouth hanging open, and Kate heard Esposito mutter in the sudden silence.

"'Bout damn time." Lanie elbowed him absently, not taking her eyes off Kate and Rick. She shook her head slightly.

"What the hell was that?" She finally asked, eyes still wide, a delighted grin forming on her face.

Kate cleared her throat, and glanced up at Rick. He was watching her, clearly still trying to make sense of the last few minutes. "That was exactly what it looked like, Lanie." She answered, firmly. "Beyond that, it's none of anyone's business but ours." She turned to look at Rick, and lowered her voice, for his ears alone, "I would _not _be ashamed to be with you."

He nodded vaguely, and she realized that his brain still wasn't quite at home, and grinned, turning back to the bar. "I need another drink. A big one." She said, as what she'd done came crashing down on her. _There's no hiding now, Katie, _she cautioned herself. _You're in for a rough ride, whatever happens. _Still, she glanced at Rick, who was smiling secretly to himself, and realized that it might just be worth it.

* * *

Rick had a spring to his step as he opened the door to the loft and entered, feeling merrier than he had in a long while. It had nothing to do with the alcohol he'd recently imbibed. In truth, drink had held little attraction for him tonight. His attention had been completely monopolized by the amazing woman he'd spent the evening with.

Never in his wildest dreams had he thought that Kate Beckett would be so brazen as to kiss him like that in front of her friends and co-workers. Hell, he didn't think she'd ever kiss anyone like that in front of anyone else. His mind still went a little fuzzy, just thinking back to it, his lips curling unconsciously into a smug grin.

After that, they'd spent the next few hours trying to laugh along with the conversations around them, trying to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Except that she sat next to him at the table, and her hand often strayed over to touch his knee as she spoke. It was amazing that such an innocent, unconscious action could be so exciting. Even more so that it could be so exciting to him, a man who had had his fair share of wild and crazy moments. Yet now, none seemed to compare to the simple act of kissing a woman in a bar.

"What are you looking so happy about?" Alexis' voice piped inquisitively, and he looked over to see her sitting at the kitchen counter, idly poking the remains of whatever she'd had for dinner around her plate.

"What makes you think I'm happy?" He asked, knowing she wouldn't fall for it.

She cocked her head, a wry smile on her face. "Oh, come on, dad. You're practically skipping, and you don't grin like that unless you're happy about something." She paused for a moment, pretending to think. "Or unless you've just gotten away with something. Which is it?"

"A bit of both, I guess." He answered, cryptically, earning him a pout. "Ok, well, there is something I need to tell you, I suppose."

Alexis blinked. "This sounds serious. Should I be sitting down?"

"You are sitting down."

"Ok, well, should you be sitting down?"

"I don't see why not." He hopped onto the stool opposite Alexis, and reached for her hand with both of his own. "Ok, so…" He tried to think of a way to phrase it.

"Dad…" She seemed suddenly unsure. "What is it?"

Rick laughed at his own hesitancy. "Oh well, you're going to be pleased, so here goes. We're not going to Los Angeles."

Her eyes widened, and she gave a little start. "Really? You mean, you turned it down?" He watched as she tried to keep a tight hold on her excitement, and her relief, and felt more than a little guilty that the prospect of moving across the country, even if only for the summer, had filled her with such dread.

"I did. Told them there was too much going on in New York right now for me to leave. I thanked them for the offer, and told them I'm sure they'll make me proud when I see the finished piece."

Alexis eyed him dubiously. "You don't believe that at all, do you?"

"No. Honestly, I think the movie's going to stink. Bruce and his people have no interest in the book. I'd be surprised if they've even read it. They'll make the movie they want, and they'll invite me to the premier." He frowned slightly to himself. "And that's that."

"Dad." Alexis squeezed his hand slightly. "If you really want to, you should do it."

"I don't want to." He told her, and at her look of frank disbelief, he clarified. "Ok, I do. But I want other things more."

"What other things?" Alexis asked, confusion writ large on her face. "What do you want more than to be a movie writer?"

Rick fumbled for a moment, realising that Kate was still right about one thing she'd said tonight. He shouldn't tell Alexis yet. It was pretty apparent how highly his daughter thought of Kate Beckett. That tinge of hero worship was growing more obvious by the day, and if there was one thing Rick would do anything on earth to avoid, it was allowing his little girl to be hurt.

He knew that there was a touch of hypocrisy to him wanting to shout to the whole world that Kate Beckett was prepared to kiss him, to go on dates with him, and hopefully more, before too long, whilst keeping his daughter from finding out. He'd said as much to Kate tonight, in the quiet conversation they'd had before she kissed him again, almost as thoroughly as the last time, and said goodnight. She had climbed into a cab with Lanie, and almost immediately come under some serious interrogation from her friend, and he'd made his way home alone.

But she'd been unfairly magnanimous about it all, telling him that she understood the difference, and that she'd never forgive herself if something they did actually ended up hurting Alexis. _I could love her for saying that,_ Rick thought, then stopped dead, shocked to his core. _Wait, no that's 'could love', not 'do love', _he told himself firmly. _Definitely not there yet._

Clearing his throat nervously, he smiled at his daughter, and tried to answer her question. "Oh, you know…. I've still got the book to finish. And then the next one to plan. And Beckett and the boys will really struggle if I was to just up and leave. It's not fair on them."

Alexis gave him that wry smile again. "Right, dad, whatever you say. I'm sure they can't even tell whether a victim's dead without you there to lend your expertise."

"Oh, how you doubt me. My own offspring. So disloyal." His levity was returning in full force, and Alexis grinned, allowing her own pleasure at his news to shine through.

"It's not like you don't deserve it." She ignored his exaggeratedly pained gasp. "So, are you hungry, or did you grab something to eat already? There's some chicken there, it's probably still warm."

"Fried?"

"Roast."

"Spoilsport."

* * *

**A/N: **Like I said, kind of short. But sweet, I hope. And finally, we learn his decision regarding the movie deal. Perhaps some of you still think he should have accepted it, but this was always my intention. That part of proving himself to Beckett was that he would turn down this opportunity, even though their relationship is barely formed. Anyway, please read and review, as usual. Thanks


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:** Yeah, I know it's been an age since I updated. Sorry about that, but I did warn you a couple of chapters back that it might take a little time to come up with interesting new cases. As it turns out, I still haven't managed that, so the case mentioned in this one is just the tail end of a routine murder, not something that appeared in previous chapters, in case it's been so long that you've all forgotten what happened in them.

Anyway, I'm still not entirely happy with this, I think it's a bit too fluffy, a bit schmaltzy, and I've introduced a few threads in here that don't really go anywhere yet. But they will, I assure you.

* * *

**Chapter 19**

Kate's step slowed just a little as she entered the bullpen. She couldn't help but notice the heads that surreptitiously swiveled in her direction, the curious, intrigued expressions.

It had been like this for the last week, the secretive glances, guarded whispers and poorly hidden smiles. It was worse when Castle was here as well. Resolutely, she strode to her desk, head high. As she took off her coat, Esposito and Ryan sauntered up, with bullish expressions on their faces.

"Morning, boss." Ryan said, pointedly, perching on the edge of her desk. She let that slide, for now.

"Morning, Ryan. Esposito." This was awkward, as it had been every morning. She could see it on their faces as well, the way their shoulders were squared, their jaws set.

"Morning. So, we're gonna go and talk to the husband again today, right?" Esposito asked, nodding his head towards the murder board.

Kate nodded, glad of the distraction. "Yeah, we'll head out when Castle gets here." She pretended not to notice how their faces tightened at his name, knowing that their first inclination was to glare about the room, challenging anyone to say what they were clearly thinking.

Again, this was becoming a ritual in the precinct. Ever since that night in the bar eight days ago, people had been talking. No one had said anything to her, of course, or to Ryan or Esposito, but they'd been talking all the same. She knew the sort of things that some of them were saying, the things she'd always feared they'd say about her. She knew that words like "conquest" and even "groupie" had been used. She knew money had changed hands, over smug looks and, as determined as she was to ignore it all, to treat it with the contempt it deserved, it stung.

But, she supposed that she should have expected it. Hell, she did expect it, it was the precise reason she'd been so reluctant to do anything that might tip people off. So her grand display in front of her colleagues in that bar last week was completely to blame for their current interest in her private life. Yet she didn't regret it at all. How could she, when it was that spontaneous, reckless act that had finally convinced Richard Castle that she was ready and willing to see where their feelings might take them, without shame or embarrassment?

His little speech about the secrecy of their relationship had come straight from his heart, and it had pierced hers as surely as cupid's arrow. When she'd first met him, she'd never dreamed he would be capable of something so selfless, of surrendering his dreams and even his pride and dignity to make someone else happy. How could she not have kissed him in that moment? Anyone would have kissed him.

That people she worked with were there to see it hadn't really registered at the time. But in the week since, it certainly had. Still, Kate reflected, the excitement and near obsession had died down considerably in that time. She figured it was probably because Castle had done absolutely nothing out of the ordinary in the precinct. He behaved exactly the same way as he had before, teasing, flirting, and cracking silly jokes. But nothing to even hint that he'd taken her out on three dates in that week. Nothing to make anyone suspect that they'd made out at the back of a cinema like a couple of teenagers whilst some movie neither of them cared about played, or that she had convinced him to accompany her to a Mets game this weekend, determined to make him understand a sport that clearly baffled him.

In short, things were going well, very well. There had been tacit agreement between them to take things slowly, and Kate was more than content to savour this first flush of what she hoped would blossom into something much more. She wasn't even trying to lie to herself anymore; she had it bad for Richard Castle. Now, being that honest with him was still a much bigger challenge. Luckily, he seemed to be as content as she was to just take things as they came.

She jumped as her phone rang, and reached over to grab the receiver, colouring slightly as she realised she'd probably just been gazing dreamily at nothing. Not that either Ryan or Esposito would have pointed it out. They'd been so sweet this week, the pair of them. Unshakeable in their support of her, and in their disapproval of the gossip mongers. "Beckett," she said as she held the receiver to her ear, the clipped tones telling whoever was on the other end that she didn't have time to prevaricate.

It was Forensics, confirming they finally had confirmation of the DNA test they'd done on a scrap of skin found under the victim's fingernail. It was the husband's. Kate thanked them, and set the receiver back in its cradle as she stood. "Looks like we haven't got time to wait for Castle. That was forensics. It's the husband's DNA." She set off for the elevator, not waiting to see if the guys would follow. She knew they would.

Just as they reached them, the elevator doors pinged open, and Kate felt a rush of warmth flow through her. "Castle," she greeted him happily, "you're just in time." She gestured for him not to leave the elevator, and stepped in alongside him, Ryan and Esposito crowding in behind her.

Castle briefly juggled the two coffees he was carrying, and glanced around in confusion, taking in what she'd just said. "The husband?" He grinned. "Didn't I tell you it would be him?"

Kate rolled her eyes as she took one of the cups off him. "Yes, Castle. Well done. But you also told us it would be because the husband was actually an NSA double agent, secretly working for the North Koreans, and the vic found out, so had to be silenced. How's that part turning out for you?"

"Oh, I still have faith in my theory, detective. You just don't want to believe that our country's intelligence services are riddled with treason and duplicity."

"I have no trouble believing that, Castle." Kate answered, shooting him a mischievous smile. "I'm just more worried about your brain being riddled with wool and sawdust."

"Ouch! Isn't it a bit early in the day to be getting so personal?" His answering smile let her know that he wasn't remotely offended, and Kate was about to shoot back with something else, when she noticed the thoroughly amused looks that Ryan and Esposito were sharing between them.

She gritted her teeth and glared at them all, reserving her most scathing look for Castle, for provoking her. He just grinned unrepentantly. That was one downside of them dating; he was nowhere near as intimidated by her now as he had been just a couple of weeks ago.

Fortunately, the elevator reached the parking level before she had to endure any more of them, and Kate strode out towards her car, knowing that Castle was following closely. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Ryan and Esposito headed for their own vehicle. As soon as she judged them out of hearing range, she looked sidelong at Castle, "you look tired, Rick," she told him, trying to keep the edge of concern out of her voice. They weren't at that level yet. "Late night?"

He smiled at her, and nodded. "You could say that. I was wrestling all night with a particularly lithe and slippery police detective."

Kate rolled her eyes. "You wish."

The deep chuckle he gave at that hit somewhere low down in her abdomen, and she felt her face grow a little hot. "Oh, you've no idea how much I wish that, Kate. But what I meant was, I was finishing my book. Well, the first draft anyway."

She stared at him, surprised. "You're done? I thought you had about four chapters left to write."

"I've been feeling… inspired over the last week or so." His eyes locked on hers. "You just get my creative juices flowing, what can I say?" His smirk left no doubt about the double meaning, and Kate missed a step.

She recovered as well as she could. "God, Castle could you be any more of a guy?" She sounded flustered, and she knew it. Luckily, they reached her car at that moment, and she quickly opened the door and clambered in.

Castle hopped in the opposite side, and answered with that same smirk. "You really don't want the answer to that, Kate. Not here, anyway."

"You mean here at the precinct? Or here in my car?" She asked, huskily, biting her bottom lip and peering at him with heavily lidded eyes. That wiped the smirk off his face, replacing it with that wide eyed, startled look that she enjoyed so much. He opened his mouth, but couldn't seem to form any words, and Kate nodded decisively. "Now, behave yourself, or you'll never find out which of those ideas appeals to me more." They pulled out of the parking space, to the sound of Richard Castle's sudden coughing fit.

* * *

"See, this is why marriage is such a bad idea!" Castle exclaimed as he perched on the desk, next to Kate. They were watching as the victim's husband was led away by uniformed officers, having just secured a full confession from him.

Kate frowned at Castle's words, and glanced quickly at him, and then away again. She'd heard him say disparaging things about marriage before, but they'd never caused the sinking feeling of disappointment that assailed her now. She tried not to wonder about why that might be, and cleared her throat self-consciously. "Not all marriages end in murder, Castle."

"No, some end in divorce," he told her, sagely. "And believe me, murder might be a less painful solution." She couldn't help but notice the tinge of bitterness in his words, and glanced up at him again. He seemed to be a little distant, all of a sudden, and Kate felt her curiosity piquing.

_He never did tell me how his marriages ended,_ she thought. It was something she'd idly wondered in the past, but back then, she'd not wanted to get into that sort of conversation with him. Talking about his past would inevitably lead to talking about her own. And that wasn't something she'd really wanted to share with him. Things were different now, though, she had to admit. And whilst she certainly had no intention of getting married anytime soon, to anyone, she suddenly had the strong urge to know why this man had such antipathy to the institution.

She was about to ask him just that, when Ryan trotted up, a bamboozled expression on his face. "Hey, have you guys seen Esposito anywhere?"

Kate shook her head. "No, not since we started interrogating the darling husband. Why?"

Ryan shook his head, "He keeps disappearing. Odd times of the day, and I can't figure out what the hell he's up to."

Throughout this exchange, Kate had noticed that Castle had adopted a carefully blank expression. It was one she'd come to know well, and one she was instantly suspicious of. "Castle?" She prompted, "Have you seen Detective Esposito since we got back to the precinct?"

"What? No, not seen him at all. He's probably doing something important though. You know Espo, always on the job." He smiled nervously, and Kate and Ryan both narrowed their eyes, scrutinizing him carefully. "Hey, who wants a coffee?" He asked suddenly, hopping to his feet and quickly striding over to the break room. Kate watched him go, then looked over at Ryan.

"Your boyfriend knows something," Ryan told her, peering in Castle's direction. "We should interrogate him."

"You can interrogate him all you like, I'm not getting involved." Kate held up her hands, indicating that she was strictly neutral in this conflict. She suddenly realised what Ryan had said. _Boyfriend. And it felt… not wrong. _She wondered at that. It was too soon, surely, to be using titles like that. Wasn't it? Well, all she could do was file it into the ever increasing mental drawer of 'things to talk to Castle about'. That drawer was filling up fast.

Ryan let out a put upon sigh and headed off, apparently deciding that the interrogation of Castle could be carried out at a later date. Kate watched him go, a slight smile on her face. Idly, she conceded that Esposito had been spending a bit of time elsewhere of late. Nothing that concerned her, but obviously, Ryan was a little more sensitive to his comings and goings.

Her musing was interrupted by the strong smell of coffee, and she blinked as a cup wafted under her nose. Looking up, she responded to Castle's schoolboy grin with an affectionate smile, and took the proffered cup gratefully. Castle settled back down onto the edge of the desk, perhaps a touch closer to her than might be considered strictly professional. But the office was close to empty, and Kate wasn't about to make an issue of it. Not when his presence was so reassuringly solid. His knee brushed against her leg, and she glanced down at the contact, then up to see that he was smiling faintly, and gazing off into the distance. He looked… content.

She couldn't help herself though. "Do you really think that marriages are doomed to failure?"

He blinked, and looked at her, a tightness around his eyes told her that he knew this was fragile ground. "Well, both of mine were. I've struck out twice, on that front." He was waiting for the question, she could tell.

"Ok, well…. Why did your marriages fail?" She tried to sound casual, but knew that he saw through it. She needed an answer. Castle nodded slightly, and exhaled heavily.

"Oh boy, that's a question and a half." He stared into his coffee cup for a long moment, and Kate held onto her patience, waiting for him to organise his thoughts. "A million different reasons, really," he told her, shrugging his shoulders. "With Gina, we just never really… clicked. Yes, I loved her, and yes, I wanted to be with her, to share my life with her, but it just never quite happened."

"What do you mean?" Kate heard that neediness in her voice again, and felt like cringing. Bad enough that she had to listen to him talk about loving other women, but to sound like a lovesick girl herself was just embarrassing.

He didn't seem to notice, though. "Well, Alexis and I had been a team, a partnership, for so long that there really wasn't room for a third person. It wasn't immediately obvious, but before too long, I realised that we were compartmentalising. Alexis in one box, Gina in another. I had good relationships with each of them, on their own, but they just didn't seem to overlap…." He trailed off, looking a little lost, and Kate felt her heart go out to him. Clearly, this was something that he'd never quite understood, and it pained him.

"So Gina started feeling left out?" Kate asked when he didn't seem to know what to say next.

"Yeah, I guess so. We started arguing about things. Little things, big things, until it was the only way we seemed to communicate. Now, I know I have to share the some of the blame, and I can remember countless times when I'd end an argument by storming into my office and slamming the door." He stopped, and glanced at Kate, clearly uncomfortable. "And she never followed me. I guess neither of us really fought to save what we had. We just fought each other."

His expression was so melancholy now that Kate reached out and squeezed his knee in comfort. He watched her hand and smiled softly. Then he looked up at her, and smiled. "Come on, let's go and get something to eat. I'm starving." He stood, and held out a hand to her. Kate took it unthinkingly, and allowed him to pull her gently upright, only realising as she moved to grab her coat that they were being watched by the few people who were still in the bullpen. Shaking her head slightly, she did her best to ignore them, and smiled up at Castle as they made their way to the exit.

* * *

"Gee, dad, you're going out on another date?"

Rick turned from inspecting a dark green shirt to look at his daughter, slightly wary of the edge he heard in her voice. She had a broad smile on her face, but he knew Alexis well enough to know when things weren't quite right. "Uh, yeah. Not a big deal or anything, just dinner." _Dinner at Kate's apartment, _he added silently, the thrill of that idea rushing through him for what must have been the twentieth time since she'd offered to cook for him.

"Is it the same girl again?" Alexis asked, eyebrows arched inquisitively. At his nod, she frowned slightly. "Wow, it must be getting serious, then. When do I get to meet this mystery woman?"

Rick paused, trying to think of a safe answer to that question. He'd have to talk to Kate about it first, as comfortable as they'd become in the last couple of weeks, he still felt like he was walking on eggshells when it came to their relationship. Women had bolted in the past when realised that, no matter what they did, they'd never be the number one girl in his life. He was fairly sure that Kate understood and accepted that, but not sure enough to carelessly throw the two of them together. Since Kate had asked about his divorce a few days ago, Rick had spent a bit of time reflecting on that whole saga, and had come to the uncomfortable conclusion that it had perhaps been his fault more than it had been Gina's. What he remembered most vividly about the last days of their marriage was her coldness, but now he couldn't help but recall that it hadn't always been that way. There had been a time when Gina was as warm and loving as he could have hoped for, and actually eager to embrace a relationship with Alexis. That compartmentalizing had been his doing, rather than simply the way they were all most comfortable.

Already, he knew that he wanted Kate and Alexis in the same box. But how? Alexis was sixteen now, and mature enough to be twice that age. Did she need a mother in her life? Did she want one? And, come to think of it, when the hell had he started thinking of Kate Beckett in those terms? Would she even want to be thought of in those terms? Overriding all of that was the fear that he wouldn't be able to manage it. What if, despite all his intentions, he found himself in the same situation he had with Gina, where there was always someone on the outside, looking in? What if they ended up living with a wall between them? All were questions that he had no answers to, and questions that he couldn't just come out and ask.

Dragging himself back to the present, he smiled at Alexis, and told her, "If things ever get far enough for that, you'll be the first to know." She seemed to accept that, and tossed his jacket to him.

"Don't be out all night, please. It's bad enough watching Gram do the walk of shame in the morning." She turned to leave.

"Don't worry, pumpkin," Rick called after her. "I'll be home at a decent hour." Things hadn't gotten that far with Kate yet. A rarity for him, to have been seeing a woman for two weeks and not to have bedded her already. For some reason though, with Kate, he didn't feel like he was in any hurry. It would happen, sooner or later, and Rick knew it would be every bit as great as she'd intimated back when they'd first met. For now, he was happy to savour all the little things that made spending time with this woman so enthralling.

He heard Alexis' bedroom door close, and dropped the dress shirt he'd been so obviously holding. Crossing to his closet, he picked out a blue and white plaid shirt, and some dark blue jeans to go with it. Kate had made it pretty clear that she wasn't dressing up for him if all they were going to do was sit in her apartment, and that she expected him not to make her look drab by dressing up himself. _As if anyone could ever make Kate Beckett look drab_, he thought, as he quickly donned the clothing and, with one last look in the mirror, headed for the door.

* * *

Kate nervously wiped her hands on the front of her jeans, and glanced around the apartment, giving it one last check to make sure all was neat and tidy. She knew she shouldn't be nervous, after all, it's not like this was anything new, now. A meal with Rick. But, she'd never cooked for him before, and she'd never really had him in her apartment for more than a few minutes. A year ago, that wouldn't have been a problem, she'd loved her old apartment. Great location, beautiful architecture, something that anyone would be proud of. This place though? Not so much. A fairly run of the mill sub-let on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, unfortunately, it was the only affordable place she'd been able to find. Still, it was what it was, and she knew that Rick wouldn't look down his nose at her for living in such humble surroundings.

Shaking her head slightly, to rid herself of such pointless musings, Kate hurried back to check on the food. She'd chosen Saffron Chicken Risotto, a dish that had been a favourite of her mother's, and, if she was honest, the only thing more complicated than bacon and eggs that Kate was sure she could get right. Even before she'd joined the academy, cooking from scratch wasn't something she'd ever had much time for. And since becoming a cop? Why bother wasting half an hour of your precious downtime making something when you could just phone someone to cook it and deliver it for you?

Rick had made a crack about that when she'd offered to do this, and his amusement had rankled. She was determined to show him that she lived on takeaway food because she chose to, not because she was somehow inept at creating her own meals. _I'll show him, _she thought with a grim sense of purpose, _he likes to consider himself a connoisseur of fine foods? Well, this'll knock his socks off._ She couldn't help but think back to his date with Madison, how she'd seen them making googly eyes and feeding each other pumpkin gnocchi, or whatever ridiculous gourmet stuff it had been. There she was, the burger and milkshake girl, the one whose favourite restaurant was a Chinese takeout, and she'd realized then that she just didn't fit into Richard Castle's world of high society parties, restaurant openings and charity events.

Perhaps that was one of the reasons that she'd been so keen to turn to Tom. A simple man, with simple tastes. Well, now she knew that Rick's tastes weren't anywhere near as exclusive as she'd imagined. He enjoyed burgers from Remy's just as much as she did, but still, she felt this foolish urge to prove to him that she could be just as high brow and sophisticated as any of the 'most eligible bachelorettes' he might have dated in the past.

She sighed at that, but then smiled to herself when she realised the risotto was done to perfection. Glancing at the clock, she realised she'd timed it just right as well, he'd be here in just a couple of minutes.

As though thinking of him conjured the man into existence, there was a knock on the door. Quickly stripping off her apron, she strode over and glanced through the peep hole. Yes, there he was, looking as nervous as she felt and clutching a bottle of wine. Kate smiled more broadly, and opened the door. "Evening, Rick. Right on time."

He grinned in response, "Oh, Kate, if there was ever anyone worth being punctual for, it's you." He stepped up to her and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. Desire flared, low in her belly, as it did now whenever he came into contact with her. Embarrassing, to say the least, especially when he accidentally brushed her arm at a crime scene. Still, she was pretty sure that the desire would become far easier to control once it had been sated. That thought was enough to send heat rushing to her cheeks, and she quickly stepped back, inviting him into the apartment. If he noticed her blush, he was chivalrous enough not to comment, which, Kate reflected briefly, probably meant he hadn't noticed it. She eyed him thoroughly, and appreciatively as he strolled in, glancing around. She'd told him to dress down, and was very pleased with the result. Blue jeans and a plaid shirt, brown boots, very unlike the Richard Castle she saw on a daily basis. It was odd, she considered, that simply seeing someone dressed differently than usual could be so intriguing. When he turned back to look at her, his pause, and the way his eyes flickered up and down over her form told her that his thoughts were running in a similar direction, he'd never seen her in jeans and a faded old NYU sweater, either.

He cleared his throat. "So, that smells amazing. What are you cooking for me?"

"Saffron Chicken Risotto, and it's ready, so sit yourself down and I'll sort it out."

"I brought wine," he told her, holding up the bottle.

"Right, I can see that. Well, the wine glasses are on the counter there, next to the corkscrew. Knock yourself out." He raised his eyebrows a little at the teasing tone in her voice, and then nodded.

"Oh, there's not enough in this bottle for that, Kate." She just rolled her eyes and headed back to the stove.

* * *

Rick sat back, exhaling heavily. "Wow. Kate, that really was amazing." Kate dipped her head, feeling almost shy. "Honestly, that was the best meal I've had in… well, since you brought me food in my time of need."

Kate looked up at that, the corner of her mouth quirking into a half smile. "Seriously? I just made the best meal I know how, and you're comparing it to a burger and fries served on a hospital tray?"

"Oh, you have to remember, I was concussed and drugged up at the time. But it wasn't the food itself that makes that stand out." He fixed her with intent eyes, and reached out to brush back a lock of hair that had escaped from behind her ear. "I think you know that."

"I do," she told him, simply. "But I kinda hope it was the food this time. At least, partly."

Rick laughed, and his hand dropped to the table top, where Kate instinctively covered it with her own. "Yes, definitely the food this time. Partly." His eyes were still on hers, and she felt almost mesmerised. She was used to seeing them filled with mirth, or mischief, and even though she was getting used to it, seeing them filled with this soft admiration, this desire; this was something new.

"So…" she began, hesitantly, "What do you want to do now?" The way his eyes changed confirmed that he had heard the offer in that question, that he understood what she was suggesting. But, to her surprise, he cocked his head towards the couch.

"We could watch a movie. Let this food settle." Rick waggled his eyebrows enticingly. "Come on, you must have some good DVDs in the house. Police Academy maybe? Or Unlawful Entry?"

Kate shook her head, smiling. "Do you really think that I can't let go of being a cop, even for the length of a movie?"

"I don't know. You tell me." He stood, his hand clasping hers, and led her over to the couch. He pushed her lightly into the seat, and turned to inspect the modest collection of DVDs that Kate had accumulated since losing her previous, slightly less modest collection, when her apartment exploded. "Kiss The Girls?" Rick asked, darting a disapproving glance at her. "Oh God, The Rainmaker? I thought you had more discerning taste, Kate. Patterson and Grisham?"

"Well, my taste can't be that discerning, Rick. After all, I like your books, too." She frowned up at him from her seat on the couch, resisting the urge to curl up comfortably as she watched him peering at the back of a DVD case.

"Oh, that was low. Really, Kate, you wound me." The words held no heat, and Kate allowed herself a smile at his effortless self assurance. Other people might worry that her cracks about his work were masking true contempt, but not him. He knew he was good, and he knew she was a fan, however loath she was to admit it. "Oh, here's one," he announced, brandishing a case with a pleased smile plastered across his face.

Kate squinted to make out the title. To Catch A Thief. "You're kidding, right? You really think I'll still be interested in you after watching Cary Grant do his thing?"

Rick bristled slightly. "I've been told I have a little of Cary Grant's debonair charm myself, actually."

"Who told you that? Your mother?"

"A book reviewer who wanted to sleep with me, actually."

"Yeah? What was his name?"

He shook his head. "Right, we're watching this movie, and you'll see that Cary Grant actually pales in comparison to myself. Not even he could sweep you off your feet like I have." Kate didn't reply as she watched him insert the DVD and hit play. She supposed he might have a point about that last part.

Rick sat down next to her, and wrapped his arm about her shoulders. Kate settled into his side, feeling more comfortable and content than she had in years. She rested her head against his shoulder, and sighed, snuggling a little closer to his considerable warmth. She felt his lips press a lingering kiss to the crown of her head, and smiled to herself. _Not content_, she realised lazily. _Happy_.

* * *

**A/N:** Like I said, schmaltzy, but hopefully in a good way. This chapter was originally going to be much longer, but I decided to split it in two, so chapter 20 should hopefully be up before too long, and that's where I'll expand a little on a couple of the references made in this one. As usual, please review, your comments make it much easier to persevere when the old writers block sets in.

Oh, and I know that Castle didn't mention his first marriage to Beckett yet, and she noticed it too. I'm sure she'll be interested to hear how it did end. I'll get to that at some point as well.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:** So it's been an age since I updated. Sorry about that, folks I won't go into the reasons why, but I just haven't felt like writing about the show for a while. And when I did come back to this, I ended up deleting most of what was already here and starting again.

So, I hope you enjoy this installment, and I'm happy to say that I think I've rediscovered my enthusiasm for this story, so new chapters should be forthcoming. I know I said that last time, and three months have passed since, but this time it's true. Promise.

* * *

**Chapter 20**

Rick stirred as the credits began to roll on the movie, glancing down at the woman pressed against his side. He was struggling to recall an evening he'd had that was as enjoyable as this one. The sense of pleasure and fulfillment created by something as simple as relaxing on a couch, with the woman you wanted more than anything in the world happily accepting your arm around her, was hard to describe. It was something that Rick had almost forgotten, in his years of casual dating in flashy restaurants, indeed; it was something that he couldn't even recall doing with either Meredith or Gina.

Meredith had been a storm of passion and excitement, the perfect antidote to his lovelorn misery after Kyra left. But there had been no relaxation there, no opportunity to just _be_. And with Gina, well things had never run smoothly enough for them to share this kind of contentment. _What is it about this woman?_ Rick pondered, with a sense of wonder, _how does she make me feel this way? Have I really fallen so far, so fast?_ It was a dangerous train of thought. Things were too new to start wondering at the nature of what this was between them. There had already been a fair amount of drama, and certainly more openness than Rick was comfortable with at such an early stage in a relationship. But then, this wasn't really that early, was it? They'd been together, in one way or another, for over eighteen months now. He couldn't help thinking that everything between them had been leading up to this. This moment where he couldn't think of anything in the world he'd rather do than sit here, with her head on his shoulder and her hand on his thigh.

As if reading his thoughts, Kate stirred and looking up at him. Rick felt his heart jump in his chest at the smoky darkness of her eyes, the way her mouth curved into an eager smile. She stretched up and claimed his lips, sighing softly into his mouth when he responded. It was a heady feeling, to know that he could make Kate Beckett react like this, and Rick brought his free hand up to stroke her cheek, reveling in the way her body molded itself to his.

Kate swung her leg over his lap suddenly, moving to straddle him with a boldness that left Rick feeling a little light-headed. And when her mouth moved, to nibble softly at his earlobe, he couldn't stifle the groan that escaped his throat. His hands came up instinctively to grab her ass, squeezing and caressing rhythmically and causing her to emit a sound that, had it come from another woman, he might have described as a whimper. Her hand went to the buttons of his shirt, and he felt one pop open, then a second, as her tongue flickered out against the pulse point in his neck.

Rick was reeling. _She really is extraordinary!_ This had gotten out of control, quickly, was further than they'd ever gone. His hand drifted up under her sweatshirt, to touch her naked back. Her skin was so smooth, silky, and he could feel the heat of her, radiating through his palm. Kate rocked back a little, the pressure drawing another groan out of him, her eyes darker than he'd ever seen them, her face flushed. "Stay," she breathed, hands toying with the opening of his shirt.

One word, at once confident and tentative, hopeful. Rick stared at her, just inches away, his mouth suddenly dry, heart pounding. He couldn't think of anything in the world that he wanted more at that moment, to be with this woman, to make love to her. "I can't," he answered, the hardest words he'd ever said. Her eyes flickered away from him, suddenly embarrassed. She started to pull back, and Rick reached up to stroke the side of her face, drawing her eyes back to him. "I want to. God, I want to. But I told Alexis I'd be home, and I don't want her to worry."

Kate chewed her lip, still looking unsure, awkward. "Okay," she answered, her voice quiet.

"Hey. Kate, listen, you know how much I want this. If you were in any doubt, I'm quite sure that right now, you can _feel_ how much I want this." Kate glanced down at his lap, and her face flushed a deeper red as she giggled reluctantly, catching his meaning.

"Yeah, I can feel that." She looked back up at him, seemingly more herself. "Sorry, I just got… carried away."

"You're not the only one. But we have all the time in the world, believe me. And you need to be careful, Kate. I'm a fairly healthy guy, but many more nights like this, and you'll be the death of me." His joke had the intended effect, when she laughed quietly, and shifted, sitting up. She didn't stand, though, just rested her weight on her knees, to either side of him on the couch.

"Well, you'd better start looking after yourself a bit better, Rick. Work out a bit more, eat less crap food, because this?" She straightened, staring down at him proudly, challengingly, "This is nothing compared to what it will be like when I get you in my bed." With that, she stood, and walked… no, sashayed across the room to the kitchen counter.

Rick stared after her, still struggling to regain control of himself. That last remark had left him gasping, like a speared fish. _She really will be the death of me!_ He moved to stand, trying to adjust himself inconspicuously. She noticed though, he could tell from the pleased little smirk that graced her lips as she leaned against the counter, watching him. He still couldn't think of anything useful to say, and stared like an idiot as Kate emptied the last of the wine into her glass, and downed it in one gulp, not taking her eyes off him for a moment.

"I… I should probably make a move, then." Rick winced inwardly at the sound of his voice. Thick with lust, a touch breathy. Kate nodded, still watching him almost hungrily, and Rick found himself speaking again. "I want to tell Alexis about us." He'd not planned on this, but in that moment, he realised that this woman was worth the fight it might take to make it all work. A family. Kate's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he hurriedly continued. "I mean, I want to let her know that we're dating. She already knows I'm seeing someone, and she's getting suspicious. She's pretty good at figuring out when I'm hiding something, then she won't give up until she's got to the truth of it and…" He trailed off, as Kate looked on, now thoroughly amused. "And I'm babbling, aren't I?"

She laughed, a rich, wonderful sound, and walked over to him, resting her hand against his chest. "You are, and it's adorable." He bristled a little at that, but she ignored him. "But in case you haven't noticed, this is becoming something… real, and I don't want to think that you're hiding it from your family. After all, you weren't happy when you thought I didn't want my colleagues knowing."

Rick nodded. She was right, as usual. "Yeah, of course. Well, my mother already knows, I think. I've never told her that we're… together," he used that word hesitantly, but felt his heart soar when she smiled, accepting it as a valid description of their situation. "So, I've never told her, but she knows how I feel about you, and she's a lot sharper than she ever lets on."

"Rick, it's fine." Kate cocked her head, watching him fondly. "I know things are going to get more complicated, but we're going to have to face up to that at some point. Why not make it now?"

He stopped, finally taking in what she was saying. "You mean that?"

Kate rolled her eyes, still close to laughter. "No, I'm just saying it to see how you react. Of course I mean it!" She leaned into him, pressing her lips to his briefly. "Now, go home before your daughter starts to worry."

The brief taste of her lips was enough to make Rick linger, but then he smiled and nodded. "Ok. Well, I'll see you tomorrow then." He backed towards the door, not taking his eyes off her.

"I certainly hope so." Kate replied, her eyes twinkling with merriment. "Now get out of here."

* * *

"You're getting there pretty quickly, Lex," Kate said, wiping down her face with a towel. They'd just spent the best part of an hour practicing kicks and throws, and Kate could honestly say she'd never had a better student.

Alexis was eager to learn, quick to pick things up and she had the most pleasant demeanour that Kate could ever hope for. She thought that, even if she didn't have particular reasons for wanting to bond with this girl, she would have done anyway.

"You're a good teacher, Kate," Alexis answered, beaming with pride. "Anyone would learn quickly with you."

Kate tried to laugh off the compliment, but couldn't disguise that she was touched. She'd had more success in hiding the change in status between her and Alexis' father. In the heat of things last night, she'd agreed to him telling Alexis without even registering that they had another self defence class together this evening. When she had remembered, that morning, a hasty and slightly desperate phone call to Rick had confirmed that he hadn't been able to sit down and talk to Alexis yet. Kate had begged him to hold off until after tonight, to give her one more evening with the girl as a teacher and potential friend, before she became someone else entirely. Rick had laughed at her, a reaction that had raised her hackles at the time, and still irritated her when she thought about it now. But he'd agreed, and so Kate had relaxed, safe in the knowledge that she wouldn't have to face Alexis tonight with the revelation of this new relationship hanging over them.

As she looked at the girl now, she knew it had been the right decision. They'd have plenty of time to figure out where all the pieces fitted, and Kate was still coming to terms with the idea that she could be a part of their lives at all. "Are you just trying to butter me up so I don't make you do the warm up exercises next week?"

"Ah rats, you caught me!" Alexis grinned up at her. "So, do you want to grab a bite to eat, then?"

"You took the words right out of my mouth, Lex," Kate said as she began to head for the locker room. "Burgers at Remys?"

"Of course. I'll just call dad and let him know." Her eagerness blazed through the words, and Kate felt a warmth spread through her that this girl was so happy to spend time with her. She only hoped that the friendship between them would continue to grow as her relationship with Rick did.

* * *

Rick woke early, feeling energized and eager to get to work. He'd pretty much finished the revisions that Black Pawn had asked for. And though he knew they'd still ask for one or two more changes, he was fairly sure that they'd be minor. After writing 22 bestselling novels, you developed a feel for the editorial process, and Rick did a pretty good job of reigning in his own excesses and flights of fancy, with Alexis' help of course.

Alexis. He'd told Kate a couple of days ago that he wanted to tell his daughter that they were dating, and it was true. But he wasn't quite sure how to go about it. It was one thing, telling a ten year old girl that daddy had a new friend, when he'd decided it was time for her to meet Gina, but another entirely to tell his now sixteen year old daughter that he was dating a woman that Alexis was clearly very fond of. Would she be happy at the thought? He hoped so, but as well as he knew Alexis, he had to concede that she was changing as she got older. She was certainly jaded when it came to the issue of him dating, and it was hard to ignore the hints she'd given him regarding that.

Before he could take his thoughts any further than that, his daughter appeared in his office doorway. "Morning, dad," she called, strolling in and perching on the edge of his desk. "Still not finished?"

"Just about, sweetie." He smiled up at her, "I'm just finishing up with Gina's list of comments. Then I'll email it back to her and see if she has anything else to demand of me."

Alexis smirked at that. "I'm not going to make the joke you're looking for there, dad."

"Fair enough." He paused, studying her for a moment. "How was your self defence class last night? Did you have fun with Beckett?"

His daughter's face suffused with excited energy. "Dad, she's great. So much fun to hang out with. She gives the best advice on dating and…" She trailed off, smirking at Rick's sudden look of alarm. "Don't worry, dad. It was all hypothetical. If I get a boyfriend, you'll be the first to know."

He squirmed a little at that, and decided that now was as good a time as any. "Alexis, there's something I need to talk to you about."

He smile became slightly wary. "Ok. Well, here I am. Not going anywhere."

"Right well," he paused again, trying to figure out the best way to do this. "As you know, I've been on several dates over the past few weeks. With the same woman."

Alexis nodded encouragingly, confusion written on her face. Rick didn't blame her for that. He'd never talked to her about women he dated in the past, and he was pretty sure she didn't want to know anything about them anyway. It wasn't like many of them would have been worth the time it took to talk to his daughter about them.

"In fact, I think you could say that I'm… in a relationship with this woman." He trailed off, waiting for Alexis' response.

She blinked, then her eyes widened almost comically. "A relationship? My dad, in a relationship?" She narrowed her eyes and peered at him with faux concern. "Do I need to be talking to this woman about her intentions towards you?"

Rick laughed uncomfortably at the joke. "No, I don't think that'll be necessary. I think her intentions are entirely honourable. Well, mostly honourable."

"Ew. Dad, I don't need to hear the details." She sobered, and then looked at him fondly. "So, what's her name, this 'honourable woman'?"

"Erm… well, her name is Kate."

"Kate? Like Detective Beckett?" Alexis looked doubtful, and he could see her confusion growing. He decided he needed to stop prevaricating.

"Exactly like Detective Beckett." He nodded. "Kate Beckett."

"So… what you're saying is that the woman you've started a… relationship with is Kate Beckett?" She seemed a lot less excited than Rick had imagined. In fact, not excited at all, just unsure.

He sighed. "Yes, Kate and I have started a relationship." Alexis nodded, eyes fixed on his face. "Alexis, I thought you liked Kate. Is this… do you have a problem with this?" He dreaded the answer, worrying now that he'd somehow completely misread his daughter when it came to her feelings for Kate.

But after a moment, a smile broke across her face. "Dad, I think it's great. Really." She reached out and covered his hand with her own, squeezing affectionately. "It was just a surprise, that's all. I mean, you've worked together for so long now, and I guess I just figured you were friends, and that's as far as it was likely to go."

"We are friends, pumpkin. But we're more than that."

"So, this is getting serious then?"

"Oh, it's a little early to be gauging that sort of thing." He tried for breezy, but didn't really hit it. "Let's just say that we're really enjoying spending time with each other, and I certainly hope that it grows into more than that." He still hadn't quite come to terms with the depth of his feelings for Kate, and he didn't want to say too much, not even to Alexis.

She was nodding, eyes intent. "So, does Gram know?"

"I think so. I've always been surprised at the things she knows, without me ever having told her."

Alexis took a deep, cleansing breath. "Ok, well, you're going to have to bring Kate around to 'meet the family' then, aren't you?"

"You know her already. Hell, you spend an evening every week with her, learning how to beat people up and then having milkshakes."

"Yeah, but that's as Kate, not as my dad's girlfriend." She shrugged slightly, as though she recognized it was an odd distinction to make.

Rick had felt a flood of warmth when Alexis had called Kate his girlfriend, and had drifted for a second, wondering at the turns life took. _My girlfriend. Kate Beckett. Does it get any better than that?_

"You should invite her over for dinner." Alexis said, hopping off his desk and standing, hands on hips. "Why haven't you done that already?" Her glare was accusing.

"I just, didn't want to rush things. I'm kind of out of practice at this whole relationship thing. You know, my dates usually only amount to…"

Alexis cut him off hurriedly. "I know what they usually amount to, dad, and I really don't think we need to talk about that." She glanced at her watch. "I'm going to meet Paige. We're going shopping. You talk to Kate about coming over."

"Yes, ma'am." Rick answered. "Hey, do some damage on that credit card, will you? You deserve to live a little now school's over."

"Uh huh. Sure thing, dad," she breezed, waving back at him over her shoulder as she headed for the door. "Get your book finished, too."

"Will do." _That went pretty well, _he told himself. _I thought she'd go nuts, and start picking out wedding patterns._ He settled back into his chair, and began to type up the email he had to send to Gina. He knew it would only be a few hours until she got back to him with any last requests, so that would leave him some time to drop in on Kate and the boys.

* * *

The shrill ringing of a telephone rudely jolted Kate back into consciousness. She'd had trouble getting to sleep last night, and as loath as she was to admit it, she knew why. She hadn't seen him yesterday. He'd called briefly to say that Gina had been too quick to get back to him with the final edits for Naked Heat, and he wanted to get it all done and dusted. She'd missed him, but the day had been an endless slog of paperwork anyway, so she couldn't think of a valid excuse to call him. The end result was that she'd left work late, and grumpy, deciding to get an early night. Only he'd plagued her thoughts, vivid memories of two nights previously, when she'd been so close to dragging him to her bedroom, despite his need to be home for Alexis. Grumpiness was replaced with a severe case of thwarted desire and frustration. In the end, after much tossing and turning, she'd dealt with it the only way she knew how, and drifted off into a bliss induced sleep. There was no respite there either, though. Rick came to her in her dreams and did all the things she'd been wanting him to do in person.

All in all, she woke more exhausted and frazzled than she had been before going to bed.

She reached blindly for the phone, and dragged it to her ear. "Beckett," she muttered, her voice thick and fuzzy with sleep.

"Morning, boss." Esposito, sounding far too cheerful and far too pleased to be waking her up. "Sorry to interrupt whatever you've got going on over there, but a body dropped. Harlem, West 124th and Lenox. "

Kate tried to form an appropriate response, but settled for, "Fine, On my way. And stop smirking." She hung up without another word, and hauled herself out of bed, rubbing her eyes groggily. _Rick's going to pay for this, _she decided vindictively. Though really, she knew she'd be hard pressed not to just jump him as soon as she saw him.

Fifteen minutes later, she was freshly showered and leaving her apartment, locking the door with one hand and dialing Castle on her phone's speed dial with the other. He answered before the first ring finished, and Kate couldn't suppress a smile at his eager greeting. "Good morning, Kate. Is this a business call, or could you just not go for more than a day without hearing my voice?"

She laughed easily, shaking her head. "Rick, if only I had enough time to waste to just listen to you talk. It's business. Esposito just called about a body. You want me to pick you up on the way?"

"Absolutely. I can think of nothing better to do than investigate a murder with you."

"Nothing better? Way to flatter a girl, Castle." She almost laughed again when he frantically started backtracking.

"Oh no, I can think of so many things I'd rather do with you, but none of them would be acceptable at a crime scene." He paused for a moment. "Or even in public."

"Ok, cool your jets, Ricky," she could feel the heat rise in her face. "I'll be knocking on your door in ten minutes. Be ready for me."

"Tease," he replied, with real affection, and Kate wondered again at how fast things were going now. She hung up and headed for her car.

It was more like fifteen minutes when she pulled up outside Rick's building, and she realized she wouldn't have to go up and knock on his door. He was sitting on the steps outside the rather grand entrance, looking for all the world like a small boy waiting to embark on an expedition. He spotted her before she'd even pulled up to the curb, and hopped to his feet, a broad smile plastered across his face.

She couldn't help but match his grin, thoroughly charmed by his enthusiasm, even if it was for a new murder investigation. He hurried around to the passenger side of the car, and hopped in.

"Good morning, dear," he greeted her, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. She smiled again, oddly pleased at the domestic nature of the gesture.

"Good morning to you too."

"So, what've we got?" His eyes were shining with excitement, and she knew him well enough now to know that it wasn't glee at the thought of a new murder to solve.

"What's with you this morning?" She asked him, deciding that bluntness was the best way to go when he was in this sort of mood.

"I finished my book this morning. Emailed it off to Gina less than an hour ago." He looked so proud that she felt almost as though the achievement was her own.

"Wow, that's great, Rick." She hesitated. "What does a supportive girlfriend normally do in these circumstances? Congratulate you?"

His grin turned positively filthy. "Well, usually…"

Kate glared. "Don't even think of finishing that sentence, Ricky. Not unless you want to be kicked out of a moving car."

He subsided, still smiling.

For a few moments they drove in silence, before Kate felt his eyes on her. "What?"

"You called yourself my girlfriend," he said, quietly.

She risked a glance in his direction, and saw the warmth in his eyes. "You noticed that, did you?"

"I notice everything you do." He smiled. "I've got to say, I really like the sound of it."

"Yeah? Well maybe if you behave well enough, I might let _you _call me that one day." She glanced at him again, and saw that he seemed to be basking in her presence, a pleased little smile on his face. _Well, a girl can't ask for more than that, can she?_

"Well, just so you know, I'm not nearly as stingy with the terms of endearment. You can call me your boyfriend any time you like."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Good. Because you might like to use it once or twice when you come over for dinner with me and Alexis."

That was enough to freeze the smile on her face. "You told her, then?" At his nod, she felt an odd thrill rush through her. Not nervous, exactly…. Clearing her throat self consciously, she asked, "So, what did she say?"

"She's fine with it. I told you, Alexis thinks you're great."

"She thinks I'm great as her dad's work partner, and as a friend. It's not quite the same if she sees me as… as…" Kate couldn't finish that, her mind seizing up when she realized the next words to come out of her mouth were going to be 'a mother figure'. _That would be overstepping the bounds by about nine miles!_

Rick either didn't notice, or thought better of commenting, merely settling for, "Don't worry about it, Kate. Trust me."

"Ok." It was still surprising to find just how much her trust in him was growing.

"Good. So, we'll figure out our plans later." He didn't wait for her to respond, clearly thinking the matter settled. "So where are we going, anyway?"

"Harlem. Esposito and Ryan are already there."

When they arrived, it wasn't difficult to spot the building they were looking for. Half a dozen squad cars and two CSU vans were parked up outside it, uniformed officers already patrolling the cordoned off area.

Ryan was waiting at the door, and greeted them both gravely. "It's a nasty one," he told them, his face set in grim lines.

"Aren't all murders nasty?" Rick asked him, attempting to inject a little levity into the conversation.

"Yeah, but this one is especially nasty." With those ominous words, Kate and Rick entered the building, heading up the stairs to an apartment on the second floor. The door hung open, and CSU officers milled about, doing their thing. Camera flashes lit the room up periodically, though when Kate entered, she realized she'd rather the gloom had obscured the horrific tableau.

* * *

**A/N: **So, I'm trying to take a new approach regarding Alexis' view of Castle and Beckett's relationship. She's usually written as being fully supportive of it, and whilst that's great fun to read, I want to go a slightly different way. It'll become clearer in following chapters, though I'm thinking I might have to include one or two Alexis POV sections to fully explain her thought processes. It's this that's caused the biggest delays, I think, whilst I figured out how I wanted to deal with it.

Anyway, please drop me a review, if you like it or if you don't. And as I may be expanding this to include Alexis POVs, let me know if there are any other characters you might like to see get a bit of 'inside their head' treatment.


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